How to charm a dragon
by Skysha-Tranqui
Summary: [REWORKED - COMPLETED]A twist on an old tale. Harry is part-veela, but he isn't exactly comfortable with his new heritage. Will be HDslash. r&r please.
1. Chapters one to twentyone

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Harry Potter, and I don't claim to, so don't sue me!

Pairing: H/D (I love them together)

Plot: What if it isn't Draco who's the veela, but Harry? And what if Draco isn't the mean bastard he's portrayed in the books/films, but rather leader of his own resistance group? - one out of many resistance groups. Then add underhand dealings, secrets, kidnappings, and romance…stir, and see what you get!

**Author note (please read first):**

This is the entire first half of the fic (that's why it's sooo long). I've been busy reworking it, so even if you've read these chapters before it might be worth re-reading them, so you can both reacquaint yourself with my fic and also pick up any of the new bits I've added. ****

Second half should be out next week – it's finished except for the very last chapter, which I have written, but don't like yet.

Hope this makes up for the long wait – read it, enjoy it, and review it as always, and if I did it right it should be better than before. (or, at least, I like it better!)

Chapter 1: Goosebumps and painful beginnings

Harry shivered, a chill running up his spine and making his scalp crawl. Shaking himself hard, he leaned forward on his desk and checked the window was still locked.

Of course it was still locked, this is the same window with bars on the outside - an effective precaution the Dursleys had taken to ensure he couldn't escape. Although, given how much they hated him, Harry was surprised they didn't leave the window wide open in the hope that he did just that.

Another shiver broke him from his musings, which was just as well seeing how maudlin they had been recently. Not surprising, considering what he'd been through lately: Cedric's death, Voldemorts return, Dumbledore's revelation, his Godfather's 'death' and subsequent reappearance (once he'd figured out how to teleport himself out from behind the veil). Christ the list was endless!

Lightly jumping down from his seat on the wooden desk the Dursleys had kindly shoved in his bedroom because they had no where else to put it, Harry walked over to his bed and pulled on the threadbare black jumper he'd thrown there earlier.

A small hoot from Hedwig caught his attention, and he went over to pet her gently, apologising once again for having the relatives he did. She nipped him gently as if to tell him off for feeling guilty when it wasn't his fault, then rubbed his head with her hand, drawing his attention to the fact that it was shaking rather badly.

"I must be colder than I thought." Mumbling in surprise, Harry quickly climbed into his rickety old bed, and dragged the covers over the top of his head, cocooning himself completely. Still shivering, his eyelids suddenly felt made of lead, and he quickly dropped off to sleep, the occasional shiver racking his slender frame.

The Sun rose as it does every morning, but Harry didn't rise with it like he normally did. Indeed he slept the day away, one minute shaking violently, the next as still as the dead.

The next day was no better, it was in fact worse. He was conscious.

Waking up midday, Harry was suddenly racked with intense pain, far worse than the pain induced by the crucio curse. Doubling up on his side, tears streamed down his face, obscuring his vision even more than the lack of glasses did.

Pain dulled everything, robbing him of his sense of time, and his hearing.

The day wasted away with his form huddling in on itself, alternating between trying to claw the skin off his bones as something within fought to get out, and lying spent on the bed, hands limp and caked in his own blood by his sides.

At one point he was aware of people in his room with him, and someone screaming in horror, then the pain returned and he faded from the world once more.

Chapter 2: Revelations and awakenings

Green eyes blinked blearily open, and a hand rubbed at them in a curiously childlike gesture.

Faded wise blue met the sparkling vitality of the other, and Harry shot up in bed.

"Headmaster?"

Dumbledore dipped his head slightly, his amusement returning the sparkle to his eyes that had been previously missing. "Yes Harry?"

"What are you doing in…? Wait, why am I at school?"

Finally getting a good look around him, Harry blinked as he realised he was sitting in the hospital ward at school, Madame Pomfrey bustling about in the distance, with the Headmaster sat in a chair by his bedside.

"What's the last thing you remember Harry?"

"Umm, I was at the Dursley's, and I was sick."

Nodding, Dumbledore folded his hands in his lap, then filled Harry in on what had happened next.

"You got very bad, and eventually the Dursleys realised something was wrong. They went and checked on you. When they found you Hedwig put up a big fuss, and Mr Dursley eventually let Hedwig out. She came to me, and I went to collect you."

"As to your illness. Well," The Headmaster coughed into his hand, trying, unsuccessfully, to hide a smile, "it isn't so much an illness, as perfectly natural."

"It appears as though one of you parents was keeping a rather large secret, my personal guess is it was your mother, who was uncommonly beautiful. Anyway, one of your parents was at least part-veela. Those with mixed blood such as yourself generally have no idea what they are, unless something happens to trigger off the change."

"Even then, the change can only occur if you have found your lifemate. Your kind, once changed, can't function at their fullest without their lifemate, and if you never change then you'd never miss not having them. The change is not necessarily triggered by your lifemate, as you may need use of your powers and change then, but such a thing is only possible after you have met you lifemate - so you can be with them as you are meant to."

"The pain you are going through is your body accommodating your new powers, and will disappear once you are fully adjusted. It was worse for you, as you didn't have any potions to distil the effects of the transformation."

"As well as greater powers, your outer appearance is also changing minutely. Not so much as to be immediately noticeable, but enough to reveal your inner nature."

"Your instincts will urge you to find your mate as soon as possible, and you may have problems at school to begin with. But you can come to any of the teachers if need be, and I am always there to talk to. If things get too bad we can move you out of the Gryffindor dorm, but we'll see how we go."

"I'm going to let you rest now, you'll probably get another dose of pain soon, but don't worry, Poppy has some more potion to ease the effects. Rest well, Mr Potter."

Rising easily despite his age, Dumbledore left the hospital wing, a mischievous twinkle appearing in his eyes as he headed off to tell Professor Snape the most recent developments.

Harry sat where he was, reeling from the amount of knowledge imparted to him so quickly, and with so little…tact.

Another shiver slowly worked its way up his body, and he tensed in preparation of the pain to follow. No sooner had he done so, then Madame Pomfrey was there, pressing a potion into his hand, and easing him back against the pillows.

Once the potion was administered a wave of drowsiness washed over him, and he realised how they were combating the pain. By getting him to sleep through it.

His last thought as his eyes slid shut was to wonder who his mate was out of all the people he'd ever met, and to pray to God it wasn't one of the Deatheater's, or even Voldemort himself. That would be too cruel.

Chapter 3: Who's the bad guy?

Time slowed, and almost held its breath, as Harry awakened again.

Opening heavy eyes, he looked around in an almost drugged manner, as the potion given him by Madame Pomfrey continued to work on his system.

Harry shook his head to knock his blurry vision into focus, then reached up to check he had his glasses on at all. Touching his hand to the side of his face, Harry realised that he didn't have his glasses on after all, just as his vision decided to obey his demands and cleared.

Blinking in surprise, the fuzziness gradually began to wear off, and he pushed himself upright as he examined the world with his new and improved eyesight.

A knock at the door interrupted his examination of the rail along his bed, and Harry glanced up in time to see Madame Pomfrey bustle through.

Harry noticed abstractly that there appeared to be a blue glow encompassing the nurse, but his attention was more caught by the gasping breath she emitted when she got a good look at him. That and the crash the tray she was carrying made, when she dropped it on the floor, its contents spilling across the green tiled floor.

"Oh, Harry!…Goodness, you've…grown, haven't you?…Umm…Hehe, I'll clean that up, later, right now you look like you need some…tender…loving …care…" Almost gasping for breath, Madame Pomfrey negligently stepped over the spillage on the normally pristine floor, and smoothly made her way to Harry's side, a weird half-smile quirking her normally stern lips.

Harry frowned slightly as he looked from the broken vial which used to contain, he presumed, some more medicine for him, to the now definitely heavy-breathing nurse.

Half-rising, he was about to suggest she have a lie-down herself, when a feminine hand on his chest halted the movement.

"Uh uh, you're meant to be resting. You just, lie back and relax, let me do all the work for you."

Harry's emerald gaze flickered down to the hand that was now caressing his chest, where his pyjama top gaped open, then followed the arm up to the face of nurse Pomfrey.

A pang of distress echoed in his mind, as he took in the nurse's askew hat, and the top three buttons that had come undone in her nurses outfit, exposing quite a large amount of breast to his gaze.

Before he could gather himself to back away, and relocate to another place - possibly Dumbledore's office - something stirred in the back of Harry's head.

A strange feeling rose up from somewhere in Harry's subconscious, like a large, furry beast, rising from something thick and viscous. This feeling forced Harry to move closer, instead of backing away as he'd intended.

This feeling then guided him to clasp the hand Madame Pomfrey was using to caress him, and then tug her closer with it.

It was also this feeling that made Harry cup the nurse's face with his other hand, and pull her down into a deep, passionate kiss.

A warm tingling quickly spread from Harry's lips, down his jaw, and deep into his body. With this warmth came clarity, and Harry realised he was sitting in a hospital bed at school, kissing the nurse.

The feeling from the back of his subconscious retreated, temporarily driven back by the warmth.

Fully in control of himself again, Harry quickly released Madame Pomfrey, who continued to cling to him, minute trembles now conspicuously racking her form.

Harry gripped her by her shoulders, and forcibly removed her lips from his own, his eyes widening in horror as the full extent of what he had just been doing impacted on him.

Now detached from his mouth, Madame Pomfrey reached for him again, her breast spilling out of her uniform with her movement, still encased in her bra, but showing far too much flesh for Harry's liking.

Moving rapidly, Harry dove off the other side of the bed, and proceeded to circle around it, in an attempt to keep Madame Pomfrey out of range.

As the two continued their unusual dance, Harry noticed the strange blue that had been surrounding the nurse when she first entered, had now diminished to a less-significant glow.

Harry paused, trying to figure out why that fact suddenly seemed so important, and was unprepared for Pomfrey's next attempt.

Seeing the object of her desire was temporarily distracted, the nurse gathered the skills remaining from her time as a chaser on her Ravenclaw's team, agilely leaping over the bed, and tackling Harry's momentarily still form.

Snapped back to the present, Harry struggled to get purchase on the slippy tiles beneath him, pushing at her in an attempt to get her to let him go.

Feeling the nurse's hand grope its way into his pyjama bottoms, Harry finally realised that he was in serious danger, albeit not the kind he was normally exposed to.

"Madame Pomfrey! Let go of me! Please?" No recognition flickered in her eyes, and Harry shook her, desperately trying to dislodge her grasping hand.

"HELP!"

The raw shriek was torn from Harry's throat. Part voluntary, part involuntary, seeing how the nurse had just given a particularly hard squeeze to something very precious to Harry.

Too occupied with Madame Pomfrey to notice anything else, Harry didn't hear the footsteps that hammered down the hallway at his cry, nor did he hear the door bursting open.

He did, however, hear the outraged cry that followed.

"Madame Pomfrey! Severus, get her off the boy at once!"

He also felt the relief of having the woman lifted off of him, then cringed at the way she kept reaching for him, completely out of her mind for some reason.

"Harry? Harry, did she do anything to you?" The gentle voice intruded on his thoughts, and Harry tore his gaze away from the sight of Professor Snape tying the nurse down using the restraints put on the beds for seizures.

Professor Dumbledore's kind blue eyes looked at him understandingly, their twinkle dulled, but still there.

"I'm fine. What happened to her though? I mean, I…It's all so confused!" Frustration caused Harry's voice to break, and he blinked back tears for a minute, before raising his eyes to Dumbledore again.

"Professor, what's happening to me?"

Harry's shaking whisper was eloquent enough, and Dumbledore helped Harry to his feet before leading him out of the room, and down to the medical office. Snape stayed behind, presumably to keep an eye on Madame Pomfrey, and help her to calm down.

"Sit down, and I'll explain as best I can." Waving Harry into a comfortable armchair, Dumbledore than seated himself opposite him.

"Now. I told you when we last spoke that you were half-veela. You have, of course, seen a veelan before, at the quidditch world cup. This is not what you are like. You do not change forms. You do not suffer from the same jealous rages. What you must understand here, Harry, is that you are not a different breed, slightly similar to the veela. You are a wizard, with veela blood in your veins."

"This results in something else entirely. You can get humans with some veela blood, and they do turn out just like regular veela, but for some reason, a wizard and veela produce something quite different."

"As I've said before all veelas possess an almost unnatural beauty, which is the greatest part of their allure, and you have now inherited that quality. Unlike the veela though, there is no flip side to you, no ugly to your beautiful, no bad to your good. What you do have though is a need, no… hunger, for energy. All veela possess such a hunger, and they gain this through the sexual energy generated between themselves and their mate."

"You changed because your time had come, and you were lucky enough to have met your mate, which enabled the change to occur. Unfortunately, your mate wasn't there to…feed you, for lack of a better word."

"A little known fact about veela's, is that they are a similar breed to that of the succubus' and incubus'. Unlike those two though, the veela can limit their feedings to just one person; man or woman, and that person is their mate. As you have not been reunited with your mate, you will have to resort to feeding off of other people until such a time as you do find your mate."

Harry quickly butted in, as the Headmaster finally paused.

"So, I was feeding off of Madame Pomfrey?" At Dumbledore's nod, and encouraging smile, Harry continued, putting the pieces together in his head.

"And, I'll have to do that until I find my mate, at which point I focus my feeding on them?"

"Yes." Dumbledore paused, and bowed his head momentarily.

"I know that at the moment it seems like a lot to take in, and you no doubt feel bad about doing what you did to Madame Pomfrey, but you will leave her no lasting harm. If anything, I'd say she owes you an apology. Another problem with stretching your feeding to those who are not your mate, is that you have little control over how the feeding goes. Your mate would automatically know how to respond, whereas another party would be focused solely on possessing you themselves."

"This, however, can be overcome by feeding upon people as they sleep, when they are a lot more susceptible to another's control. You will also have your pick of the school, so I'd suggest you go for the ones you judge less likely to take advantage,"

"Pick of the school?"

"Well…Yes"

"But, couldn't I just feed off Madame Pomfrey or take a brew to suppress the need?"

"I'm afraid not Harry. The only person who can generate enough sexual energy, towards you, for you to feed off, is your mate. The process causes no drainage to them, as they can in turn gain their energy back from you at the same time as you feed. From anybody else though, you can only take so much before it weakens them. You also need to give people time to recover in between feedings, otherwise you run the risk of taking too much, and killing them."

"The good thing about feeding off of people's lust, so to speak, is that they are always willing for you to do so. Plus, you live in a school full of adolescent teenagers, so it's not as though you run the risk of running out of lustful people."

Seeing the expression on Harry's face, Dumbledore quickly hurried on.

"You don't need to worry about all of this at once Harry, I estimate that you have at least one full day before you will need to feed again. The amount of time between feedings will lessen as you settle into your new form, and then should average out to a permanent time. You can, of course, feed whenever, but the time scale is how long you can last, before becoming driven by the need, as you were with Poppy."

"You just stay in here for a minute, and I'll send Severus to get your room set up for you. I think you'll find it more comfortable in your own rooms."

Harry nodded miserably, and clenched his fists at the thought of what he would have to do, more and more frequently, in order to survive.

"Oh, by the way, if you have any queries, or feel any differences as the days go on, I urge you to come and talk to me about them. I might not be as proficient on this subject as I am on others, but I do believe I can help some."

Dumbledore smiled at Harry gently, then quietly shut the door behind him as he went off to check on Poppy, and set Severus to work.

Harry remained slumped in his chair, wondering just how the hell he was going to survive the coming year. Somehow, Voldemort just didn't seem so bad anymore.

Chapter 4: Visible changes

Harry had been relocated to the dorm room he'd stayed in since he first entered Hogwarts, all those years ago.

The large room somehow managed to look small and cosy, with the five beds placed a reasonable distance apart, yet still looking like they were squished together.

A dark red, fluffy carpet covered the dorm floor, and pale gold drapes graced the brick walls, one on each side of the arched windows.

Each bed had its own golden drapes, which gave the boys some privacy when in bed. The beds themselves were large and comfortable, with the standard red covers transfigured to suit the bed's owner.

Seamus' bed was on the left-hand side, nearest the window. His covers were a dazzling white, with big green four-leaved clovers dotted about them.

Dean's was on the same side as Seamus, but nearer the door than his was. Dean's football poster covered a large expanse of the wall behind his bed, and his covers had been made to match it, making his one of the most colourful beds in the dorm.

Ron's was the last one on the left-hand side, and was right near the door. Something had gone wrong when Ron tried to transfigure his covers to how he liked them, and he'd ended up with bright pink ones for about a year. Ever since then he'd been desperately trying to get them to change, or at least go back to red, and he'd managed to turn them into a purplish colour, which still looked pink when the Sun hit it a certain way.

On the right-hand side of the room, nearest the door, was Neville's bed. He'd been able to successfully change his sheets, unlike Ron, and now sported light blue covers, with a scarily realistic, green Devil's Snare on the front.

On the right-hand side, nearest the window, was Harry's bed. Unlike the others, he had never bothered to transfigure his covers, not even having the faintest clue as to what he would change them to.

Despite this, Harry's bed seemed to have made up its own mind, and had immediately gone from red to dark green. His friends thought that a bit odd, but Ron had decided it must have something to do with the fact that Harry's mum had had green eyes, and the others hadn't bothered Harry about it once Ron had explained it to them.

Since then, the covers had developed what looked like black veins as the years passed, and the green of them had gotten darker as well. This gave Harry's sheets the appearance of green marble, and the other boys figured he'd continued to change them until he'd got the exact same shading on them as his mum's eyes used to be.

Occasionally a dark shadow would appear somewhere on the covers, such as an owl, or a broomstick, but the image generally faded after a day. This had led Harry to believe he'd inadvertently tuned his covers to him, and they reflected what was most prominent in his mind at the time. The dark veins which had appeared worried Harry, as he pondered if they meant his prolonged exposure to dark magic was making him go dark as well.

Despite this, he actually found he liked the design, and gradually his entire bed had darkened as well, seeming to naturally repel the sunlight. The others thought he'd found a spell, and put it on his bed in the hope the morning light wouldn't wake him when it shone through the purely decorative drapes. This darkness, though not planned for, didn't seem dangerous to Harry. He actually found it soothing - a retreat from the world of expectant faces that always greeted him.

Snape had left Dumbledore keeping an eye on Madame Pomfrey, who had since fallen into a restless sleep, which, Dumbledore explained to Harry, was the body's natural way of coping with the feeding it had been subjected to.

Sweeping along in his black robes, Snape had soundlessly led Harry to Gryffindor tower, not even looking at him on the way. Once there though, he hadn't left Harry at the portrait, but actually seen him up to his dorm, whereupon he'd briskly examined the room, sniffing his disdain, then set up a series of complex-looking charms on Harry's bed.

Upon questioning him, Snape had glared at Harry, before curtly explaining they were to make sure none of the other students decided to get 'friendly' without Harry's permission, in the middle of the night. Basically - Harry's bed was now completely safe.

Snape hadn't said anything about Harry's supposedly 'chosen' decoration for his bed, but he hadn't sniffed in disgust either. Giving Harry an indecipherable look before he left, Snape had abruptly reinforced Dumbledore's speech, about Harry mentioning any changes in his behaviour or moods, etc., then he'd continued on his way, as though he'd said nothing out of the ordinary.

Since then, Harry had just sat on his bed, shoulders slumping with exhaustion. Yet, despite being tired out because of everything that had happened, he could still feel energy bubbling away beneath it all. The energy he'd stolen from Madame Pomfrey.

It was becoming obvious to Harry that he didn't need the sexual energy to replace his day-to-day food source, as he could clearly feel the energy he had taken, but it was having no effect on his state of being - namely his physical tiredness. So it must be for something else.

His head bowed, Harry tried to figure out if these latest developments were a good thing or a bad thing, but so far all he knew were the basics, he didn't know anything about what effect this 'change' would have on his powers or even his normal behaviour patterns.

After spending another good couple of minutes trying to compartmentalise what had actually happened, and all of the consequences of that change, Harry gave up on it, and stood up to take a, hopefully, re-energising shower.

The showering stalls echoed strangely when Harry entered, and felt a lot bigger than they normally did, due to the absence of any other students. Twisting the shower's dial, Harry turned the spray on, and changed the temperature to his liking.

Several minutes of pounding hot water, and Harry wasn't as bothered by the emptiness of the room any more. By the time he started spreading soapsuds over his body, he wasn't thinking about the empty room at all anymore, and was enjoying the solitude for once.

When the warm water started to run out, he quickly ducked his head under the spray, and rinsed all the soap off of himself.

A minute later he wrapped a towel around his hips after he'd roughly towel-dried his hair with it, then stepped up to one of the mirrors above the sinks near the doors, to get his hair in some semblance of order after its brisk scrubbing.

Spelled to remain unaffected by the steam created from the showers, the mirrors were clear. At the first glimpse he'd had of himself since he'd been locked up by the Dursleys, Harry froze.

Hair that had always been described in terms of messy, and uncontrollable, was now down to his shoulders, and curly. Even sticking up all over the place thanks to Harry's harsh rubbing, it was still sleek-looking, and very definitely curly. Falling in ringlets to be precise. Yet, somehow not looking very girlish at all.

His face and body could have had something to do with that.

Thanks to malnutrition they had a permanent leanness to them, and the fact that Harry didn't do weight-lifting or anything like that meant he hadn't developed big bulging muscles like other boys his age sometimes do. Instead, his body was lined with sleek, toned muscles, and what had previously been a haggardly gaunt face, now served to emphasise his bonestructure, and gave him an almost ephemeral appearance.

Almost struck dumb at the sight, Harry cautiously gripped a curl in his hand, and gave it a gentle tug. Holding his breath, he accepted the pressure he felt on his scalp from the pull, and watched as the curl unravelled, causing the strand to be even longer than before, then roll back up on itself when released.

Letting go of the breath of air he'd been holding, Harry gripped the sink in front of him with trembling hands, staring into the milky white bowl as if it held all of the answers.

Raising his gaze again, Harry visibly flinched when his green eyes glinted back at him from the mirror, then he slowly raised his eyes higher, and reached out a hand to brush a curl away from his forehead.

Narrowing his eyes, Harry almost jumped when his vision suddenly magnified itself, giving him a closer view of his forehead than he had been anticipating.

No large red scar zigzagged across his forehead, and for a minute Harry almost felt grateful for this new situation he found himself in. Until he realised he was equally, if not more, noticeable now.

Turning away, Harry missed the slight glimmer that came from his forehead, as the small, now silver, scar caught the light.

Chapter 5: Umm…hi?

Harry tugged at his hair despairingly, but nothing could make it revert to its old state of messiness.

Having spent the remaining days he had on his own getting acquainted with his changed physique, he no longer felt half-scared to touch anything, although the mirror still managed to shock him.

The first day on his own Harry had felt perfectly fine, he'd gone down and eaten his meals in the Great Hall, trying to ignore the stares he'd garnered from the teachers there. Then he'd gone flying, at first to calm himself with the feeling of doing something familiar, but then to get used to the difference he felt with his altered build, and to compensate for those changes.

The second day went…slightly differently.

The morning came and went the same as the day before, except for the minor fact that Harry was even more keenly aware of people watching him than before. He also clued in to the fact that they were staring at him in lust, rather than shock as he had previously assumed. This caused a tingle of apprehension to go down his spine, but Harry shrugged it off as unimportant.

By mid-afternoon though, Harry felt like he was being suffocated.

A growing pressure had been building in the back of his conscious since he'd gotten up that morning, and it had gotten more prominent as the day passed.

It was almost like a headache in the feeling of it, but, unlike a headache, it pointed things out to him. When one Professor walked past him in the corridor, Harry felt what can only be described as a nudge in his head, and next he knew, he was walking backwards staring at the Professor's arse as he walked away.

It wasn't just sexual things it pointed out though, at times his vision magnified without him meaning to do it, drawing Harry's attention to a particularly unusually shaped crack in the ceiling. One time his hearing zoned in on the cry of a single bird outside in the Forbidden Forest.

Harry was able to ignore the feeling for the most part. It was always there in the back of his head, and it played up occasionally, just like a headache when not treated, but the only severe symptom Harry suffered from it was that it kept him enormously distracted.

This distraction almost got him in a very tricky situation.

As it turned out, when Harry needed to feed he automatically turned on his 'charm', so to speak, which was why he'd felt as though he was being stared at more that day than the day before, because he was being stared at more.

This affected the Professors to such a degree, that one of the ones who had weaker control of themselves than the others, took it upon themselves to corner Harry in a corridor, and would have very easily gotten their way with Harry had Professor McGonagall not happened upon them in time.

Finally giving up on his hair, Harry stubbornly refused to brush it and made his way to the Great Hall, not noticing the way it smoothed itself into perfect ringlets again as he moved.

Harry was the only student in the Great Hall again, and the Professors all stared at him, more so than the previous day.

This time Harry was completely oblivious, wolfing down his cereal as fast as he could in his current state, which remained quite slow, since he kept forgetting he was meant to be eating the spoonfuls he was loading up.

The headache from the day before, which had come and gone at the strangest times, had turned into a continuous buzzing, which gradually rose in volume.

Harry was so distracted by the soundless noise in his head, that he didn't even notice the way he had started to glow.

The first time only lasted a second, then quickly sputtered out, but the next time the glow lasted slightly longer before going out.

Giving up on his breakfast, Harry pushed the half-full bowl away, then carefully made his way back to his dorm room, hoping a lie-down would make him feel steadier on his feet.

Lunchtime came and went, with Harry restlessly sleeping through it. Dinnertime approached, and with it, his classmates and friends.

Harry roused when his friends' trunks appeared on their beds, and he stumbled down to eat, glowing like a glow-worm's butt during the mating season.

Opening the door a crack, Harry quietly sidled into the Great Hall, trying to inconspicuously sneak down the aisles full of people, to get to the Gryffindor table.

As he went past each table they gradually fell silent, taking in the glowing, elfin boy who was, to their eyes, gliding through their midst.

By the time Harry made it to his seat, in between Ron and Neville, opposite Hermione, the entire hall was staring at him.

As Harry reached for the jug of juice in the middle of the table, he happened to bump shoulders with Neville and Ron, unconsciously drawing on some of their energy. Harry's head immediately cleared slightly, and the boys on either side of him relaxed slightly, as some of their lust left them.

Becoming aware of the countless eyes fixed on him, Harry sheepishly raised his head. Briefly looking into Hermione's shocked brown eyes, he then turned his head slowly to look at the rest of the hall.

A moment passed in silence, then everyone jumped slightly and spun back around, engaging their companions in mindless chatter, cheeks burning as they pretended they hadn't been staring.

The bolder ones tried to capture Harry's gaze, whilst others just continued to stare, not caring that they had been caught out.

Harry ignored everyone, his green eyes seeking out someone in particular. Grey eyes calmly met and held green, searching them for an instant, before Draco dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement.

Harry felt flushed for some reason as he nodded in return, and quickly spun back to his own table, putting the odd feeling down to the unusual events.

By unspoken agreement his friends left off their inquisition until they were alone, and they all continued with their meal, as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

Joining in with them, Harry continuously brushed against those near him, his hand even touching Seamus' by accident when they both reached for the same dish. All of this helped Harry's head to clear, and if at the end of the meal, Neville and Ron felt a bit more tired than usual, they just put it down to good food and a tiring journey.

By the end of the meal, Harry was feeling more clear-headed than he had since he'd fed on Madame Pomfrey, which was probably a good thing, considering the questioning he now faced. He had also stopped glowing, although his skin remained as luminescent as it had since the change had occurred, and this resulted in fewer stares. So things weren't starting as badly as he had expected, but that could still change.

Chapter 6 : Can you bluff with the best?

"So…?"

Ron quirked his eyebrows expectantly, but Harry continued staring at him, clueless.

Hermione sighed to herself, then butted Ron out of the way. He was such an amateur at this inquisition thing.

"Harry," His eyes moved to her, and she had to pause to swallow when faced with his glittering gaze. "What Ron is trying to say, is…how come you look so hot?"

Ron's face turned bright red, as he slowly turned his head in her direction. Faced with his scandalised expression, her own turned into one of shock and embarrassment, as she berated herself for saying it out loud.

"Umm…what I meant to say was…"

Harry stopped her fumbling with a wave of his hand. He shook his head to dispel his own stunned expression, then dropped down onto his dorm bed as he tried to find something to tell them in place of the truth.

To begin with Harry had been relieved when his friends had suggested they relocate to Harry and Ron's dorm to 'talk' about 'stuff'. He'd figured it would be best to tell them the truth out of other people's hearing, since this wasn't a secret he particularly wanted certain others to know.

As fast as his surprise over Hermione's willingness to creep into the boy's dorm had faded, so had his self-belief that telling them the truth was the best course of action.

He himself found it hard to believe, and was struggling to cope with the changes that his heritage entailed. How would his friends cope with the idea that he had to 'feed' off of people. As is that wasn't bad enough in and of itself, the thing which he fed off of - lust - was sure to raise their eyebrows at the very least. Not to mention they would be embarrassed by the fact that he could practically 'taste' their lust for him - as proven by Hermione stuttering over the mere fact that she'd told Harry to his face that she thought he was 'hot'.

Then came something even harder for him to face. The fact that they might think he wanted to feed from them, and the fact that he already had. It was only by feeding from them through casual touch that he'd managed not to attack someone like he had Madame Pomfrey.

So now Harry found himself struggling to come up with something plausible that they could accept. If they had thought the changes in him could occur naturally, they wouldn't have brought it up, so that meant he had to come up with something unnatural which caused the changes in him.

A spell gone wrong maybe, but with no permanent harm, and therefore no reason for Hermione to go out of her way researching and trying to correct it. If that happened she'd undoubtedly figure out it was a lie.

Looking up, Harry saw his friends had crowded closer, identical looks of concern apparent on their faces.

"Well…" They leaned in, and Harry desperately searched his mind for a spell to pretend went wrong.

"…I went through some changes over the holidays."

"I think we've gathered that already." Ron muttered, casting a glance at Hermione's absorbed expression as she looked at Harry.

"I…" Harry trailed off, looking down at his lap with a frown. His hands twisted together nervously, as Harry ran through everything that had happened, forgetting for the moment that he was meant to be lying to his best friends.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, then back at Harry. Letting him sort out whatever it was he was doing, they took his distraction to look him over thoroughly.

Harry had grown slightly over the holiday, making him taller than Hermione, but still not as tall as Ron had become.

His hair seemed blacker than before, when it had been brown verging on black, and it had curled as well. Ron mentally put that down to all Harry had gone through, how else could hair go that curly so quickly, without it having something to do with stress and fright?

Hermione was more interested in the way his hair was completely smooth, with every strand falling into a different ringlet, and yet still gave off the appearance of being dishevelled. It might have had something to do with the way it spilled over Harry's shoulder as he sat with his head bowed, appearing as smooth as silk and yet still rebellious and masculine.

Other than that there was nothing radically different about him. He had the same features, the same black glasses, the same clothes. It was more like his features had refined themselves, lending him a grace which had been buried under his shyness and insecurity, but now seemed to almost burst out of him.

His body had changed more than just height-wise. The clothes which had been so baggy before were still baggy, but it looked deliberate now, and they still didn't conceal the fact that he had toned up nicely.

Harry finally raised his head, and Ron and Hermione both blushed the instant his extraordinary eyes landed on them, one of his eyebrows rising in silent question.

"According to Dumbledore this is completely natural for me."

"I've just…grown into myself I guess. Like you two have, I mean…look at you! Hermione, you have curves, and Ron…you're tall…er."

Seeing the glares he was receiving from both Ron and Hermione, Harry wisely decided to shut his mouth.

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry for a moment, before deciding that he was telling them at least some of the truth, then they nodded their acceptance and Ron launched into dissecting the latest quidditch game for Harry's benefit.

Hermione sat down on Neville's bed, and interjected the occasional comment, but her mind was far away.

Harry hadn't told them everything, of that she was certain, why though she didn't know. Silently filing that fact away for later consideration, Hermione resolved to be extra vigilant of Harry's behaviour, and possibly tell Draco of the latest development. It would definitely be something he'd want to know about.

**__**

Underneath the surface of the school there are secrets to be unveiled,

Admission can't be forced, it must be given freely,

Only the true can be shown the truth,

Only the worthy can offer aid,

And only the heroes can lead the way,

Prophecy of the Circle of Light;

A group which co-worked with the Order of the Phoenix in the battle for the light side

Chapter 7 : Changed Personality?

The next day went normal enough, considering the incident that occurred in the morning, and the fact that a large proportion of the school had taken up the habit of Harry watching.

Ron and Hermione seemed to be brushing off the oddities though, and for that Harry was thankful. He had enough problems to deal with, nevermind questions from friends which he'd rather not have to answer. He'd begun to hunger again, and the casual touches didn't seem to be working anymore.

Harry had developed his own theory for that; his friends had been surprised by the changes he'd undergone, and that had made it easy to feed off of them. Now though, they appeared to be more comfortable around him, or at least were more used to his physical appearance, making them either not inclined to lust over him, or more capable of controlling it when he was around.

Whilst Harry was extremely glad to know that he no longer affected his friends, in 'that' way, this did present a problem for the future.

Harry remained absorbed with this problem, and his growing hunger all morning. His friends exchanged glances of worry about him when he sat and poked at his food during breakfast, but by third lesson; Herbology with Slytherins and Ravenclaws, they'd given up on trying to get Harry to tell them what was wrong.

As Harry absentmindedly pruned his Wiskerfey plant, he turned over the problem in his head, ignoring the faint feeling of something rising inside him.

If he couldn't feed off of people near him through casual touch, which he had a feeling wouldn't have worked for very long anyway, given how quickly he'd started hungering again, then he needed to find an alternative.

The only things he could come up with was bumping into as many people as he could find, hoping that they would still lust after him enough for a decent feeding, and that they'd be too surprised to control it. If that didn't work then he'd have to resort to more extensive feedings like the Headmaster had hinted at.

That would have to be the very last resort though, as the idea of crawling into people's dorm rooms in order to feed on their lust as they slept, was still too foreign an idea for Harry to accept. He'd have to be a lot more desperate before he'd willingly turn to it. Despite his disgust over the idea, the part of him that he was trying to suppress - the new part of him - grew more…restless…at the thought.

Shaking himself enough to free himself of his thoughts, Harry ignored the feeling of anticipation that had begun to emanate from inside, and looked down in time to see a hand stop his from snipping the last leaf off of his Wiskerfey.

Looking up Harry found his gaze met and held by a pair of familiar grey eyes. Too surprised to do anything but watch, Harry offered no protest as Draco carefully removed the sharp pruning shears from Harry's hands.

"Wouldn't want you to fail Herbology now, would we?"

Offering a faint smile at Harry's uncomprehending face, Draco placed the shears on the table next to Harry's plant, then moved back to his own table, at the other end of the shed.

Looking from Draco to his plant, and back again, Harry's brain suddenly cleared, as his 'unwelcome guest', as he'd taken to calling the urge in him to feed, drew back, sated. But by what? Had Draco's slight touch to Harry's bare hand been enough to sate him, whereas touching everyone he could all morning had only seemed to sharpen it?

Not dwelling on that thought, Harry found he was now capable of paying attention in class again, and realised that Draco had managed to stop him just as he completed the assignment given them. Wait a sec…since when did Harry start calling Malfoy, Draco? Harry felt himself unexpectedly blushing, as he realised his transgression, even if it had only occurred in his head.

"Harry, mate? Are you feeling all right? You've gone kind of…pink."

Ron cautiously placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, concern shining through his aura. Huh,…aura?

Harry blinked, warm blue afterimages appearing on his eyelids when he closed his eyes, but when he looked again all he could see was Ron. No blue mist swirling around his body, reaching out to Harry in an attempt to soothe him, just his best mate's blue eyes peering at him worriedly.

Deciding he'd imagined it, Harry quickly reassured Ron that he was fine, he'd just been daydreaming. This resulted in Harry then having to explain to Ron what the muggle phrase 'daydreaming' meant, after which you could practically see him coming up with a way he could slip it into conversation to prove to Hermione that he did know some muggle stuff.

Glad to have sufficiently distracted his friend, Harry looked over at Hermione where she was arguing over some fact or other with Sarah Jonssen, from Ravenclaw.

Turning to his parchment, Harry quickly did the required diagram of his freshly pruned plant, and then turned to the calculating of how long it should take for it to re-grow. They'd then check up on it later in the week, and chart its growth progress.

With the work out of the way, Harry returned to his thoughts, but this time he was drifting voluntarily, not because his hunger was clouding his mind too much for him to think coherently.

The game had nearly been up this morning, when Ron had come to wake Harry up. It wasn't like Harry to oversleep, and he was normally the one to rouse Ron from his slumber, but Harry had found he was increasingly tired lately. Something to do with not 'feeding' properly, or so Dumbledore had said when Harry had informed him of it before the other students arrived.

Dumbledore hadn't seemed overly worried about Harry's sudden lack of energy, and cheerfully told Harry that he was sure his body was just preparing itself to meet his mate. Why his body felt getting six hours more sleep per day than he usually did would be important for meeting his mate, Harry didn't get, but at the twinkling in Dumbledore's eyes he'd decided not to ask.

One factor they'd all forgotten to take into account though were the charms Snape had placed on Harry's bed, and the effect they'd have if Ron should try to wake Harry up by shaking his shoulder, which he did the first morning back.

After waking up an hour late because Harry hadn't woken him like he normally did, Ron had spent ten minutes cursing at the clock in an attempt to get it to turn back time, and then another five minutes gawping at Harry as he lay in bed, still asleep.

When he'd finally recovered from the shock of seeing his best friend still in slumberland, despite being the earliest early bird Ron had ever known (another muggle phrase Harry had taught him, and he took great delight in using it), Ron had taken it upon himself to return the favour Harry had bestowed on him since they'd first come to Hogwarts. Namely, waking him up.

So, reaching a hand over Harry's still form, Ron had prepared to shake him awake. He was not expecting to be sent flying across the room before he could lay a finger on his best mate, with an alarm blaring out of no-where.

A groggy Harry had fallen out of bed in his shock, and Ron had only raised his head over the top of Dean's bed when the alarm had finally stopped its siren call.

It had taken Harry nearly half an hour to calm Ron down enough to apologise and explain he hadn't done it deliberately, and he hadn't known that would happen. By this time McGonagall had managed to usher away the crowd of Gryffindors who'd come to the boy's dorm-room door, and Hermione had joined the two.

So then Harry had explained how once the Headmaster had seen the changes Harry had undergone over the holidays, he'd ordered Snape to place the charms over Harry's bed to ensure Harry didn't receive any 'unwanted attention'.

Once Ron had got over his outrage at being practically accused of wanting to jump Harry, and force him against his will, Hermione had calmly inserted that under the circumstances, she thought it was probably a good idea. Before that could send Ron into another tizzy, Hermione had clarified what she meant. Revealing that she'd heard of several plots to 'catch' Harry alone, and 'get to know him better'.

That had calmed Ron completely, and since then he'd become completely focused on protecting Harry from his supposed 'suitors'. Harry was more concerned with how Hermione had found out about these 'plots' in the first place.

Sure, she was a nice enough girl, and one of Harry's best friends, but outside of their trio Harry hadn't known she had any other people she particularly called 'friends'. Most of the other girls in their year were either scared off by her intelligence, or thought she was stuck on herself because of it.

The years below had been raised on tales of 'The-boy-who-lived', and since arriving at Hogwarts had been treated with tales of the 'Golden-trio', as somebody had laughingly called them. This resulted in them believing themselves to be too young to be friends with such 'greatness', and casting half-envious, half-scared glances at the three of them whenever they chanced upon them in the corridors.

So just who had Hermione been talking to? Or had she been eavesdropping? In which case, since when had Hermione been that good at spying on people?

Harry frowned, disturbed to find himself subconsciously going over everything Hermione had said, looking for something suspicious. He wondered if this was something else related to what he was, since it would never have occurred to him to question Hermione or her motives before this change.

Looking over to where he'd last seen her, his frown increased when he discovered she'd moved. All self-recrimination vanished, and his eyes swept the humid shed with a hunting light. The thing he'd come to associate with his hunger lifted its head in him, and almost scented the air, searching for Hermione and loading Harry with an almost sixth sense.

Finally locating her over near Drac…Malfoy, Harry relaxed before narrowing his eyes and magnifying the view, on some instinct that was suddenly triggered.

He really must have been given some kind of sixth sense, because he happened to magnify his vision in time to see Hermione reach into a pot and withdraw a balled up piece of paper.

She unrolled it and ran her eyes over what must have been text, but unfortunately it was angled away so Harry couldn't catch the glimpse he'd have needed to zoom in on it. Whatever she read must have satisfied her, because she scribbled something on the paper using her wand, then rolled it back up and dropped it into the pot again.

She continued walking as though nothing had happened, and Harry watched for a moment as she made her way back to the desk she was working at, before switching his attention back to the pot.

Once Hermione was completely out of the way, one of Malfoy's friends, a boy with dark brown hair and a lean figure…Blaise Zabini, approached the pot. He cast his hazel eyes in every direction, and Harry dropped his own gaze lest he be caught out, but upon raising them again he saw the boy reach into the pot and withdraw the ball of paper.

Slipping it into his robe's pocket, the boy then strolled back to the table he was working on next to Malfoy. Blaise settled himself on his seat, then casually reached into his pocket and withdrew the paper, passing it to Malfoy without hesitation.

Draco Malfoy bent his blond head to read the note in his cupped hands, his hair swung forward concealing his expression. A few moments passed, and Harry didn't realise his eyes were wandering, until he noticed he'd magnified his vision on Draco's arse as he sat on his chair.

Coughing slightly, Harry jerked his eyes away, a blush again spreading across his cheekbones. So absorbed in trying to mentally scrub his brain out with soap, Harry didn't notice Draco looking up and nodding at Hermione when she caught his gaze. Nor did he see both of them look at him, one pair of grey eyes narrowing in worry, whilst a shrewd pair of brown eyes swung between the two speculatively.

Chapter 8 : Why do these things happen to me?

It had been two days since Harry had observed the incident with the pot in Herbology, and everything seemed the same as always. Except not.

The hunger hadn't made an appearance again yet, but Harry refused to dwell on the why behind that. So Harry was participating in lessons at full capacity again, if not more.

Since he'd been told about his…peculiarity, Harry had been held in the grip of helplessness. The idea of having control over something he did, even if only studying, was something he eagerly grabbed at with both hands. His Professors were already commenting on the improvement in his class work, and he himself felt he understood the actual workings behind it all much better than before.

If Hermione had been surprised about his sudden interest in academia, she hid it well, instead offering to lend him what books she had on each subject, which went beyond what they were told to get. Harry leapt at the chance, and Ron had been dismayed when Harry had developed the habit of disappearing into his dorm room every chance he got, to read up on school-stuff.

Despite what Professor Snape knew about Harry, he still treated Harry with the same disdain and scorn he had before, whilst keeping a close eye on him at the same time.

He'd had a single potions lesson their first day back, and Snape had set the boundaries of their contact immediately, taking five points from Gryffindor when Harry had sneezed during his lecture.

The next day had started off with a double potions lesson, and Snape had remained the same. Harry had discovered his fascination with learning by then, and as a result found himself suddenly fearless of Snape's lashing tongue. In Harry's new way of thinking, what did the teacher matter, in comparison to what was taught.

Snape had been as surprised as everyone in the class when Harry had raised his hand whilst brewing a potion along with everyone else. When Harry had politely asked an important, intelligent question concerning the potion brewing, Snape had actually sputtered for a moment before gathering himself and responding. At the end of the lesson, Professor Snape had sufficiently recovered enough to set Harry a four feet essay, on the potion he had 'found such an interest in'.

This hadn't bothered Harry, and he found he had actually enjoyed the opportunity to research the potion more thoroughly. Deciding against letting Snape know that, lest he change his method of punishment, Harry had dutifully done the work set, then gone back over everything they'd done in previous years, and researched each potion and property as thoroughly.

All of the extra work Harry had done over that short period of time, was beginning to take up a lot of room, and the pieces of parchment were beginning to stick out from under his bed. Therefore Harry charmed his trunk, creating a filing cabinet in the bottom, with each drawer neatly labelled with the subject and what it contained. When he placed the removable base of the trunk on the top of the filing cabinet, it immediately compressed into the trunk and remained undetectable, unless someone should lift the bottom again.

Neither Ron or Hermione had any idea the true extent of extra work Harry had been doing, nor were they aware of how easy studying seemed to come to him now.

Harry hadn't slept for three days. Whatever had satisfied his hunger, had inadvertently revealed at least part of the use the sexual energy could be put to.

Whilst he still needed food and drink to keep going, it appeared he didn't need sleep, so long as he was well fed…in 'that' way.

Harry had no idea how long the buzz, as he'd taken to referring to it, would last, so he resolved to make the most of it. Devoting all of his free time, and sleep time to studying, Harry had managed to go over everything they'd done in previous years, in all subjects, and read ahead for the coming year.

With the help of Hermione's lent books, Harry had discovered he could memorise whatever he read, as well as read at an accelerated speed. He'd gone through all of the books Hermione had lent him the first night he'd had them, but he kept them for longer so it wouldn't look like he'd read them too fast.

Harry was now on the fourth night of no sleep. It wasn't quite bed time yet, but Harry was already curled up underneath his unusual covers. Ron was playing chess with Dean, Seamus yelling encouragement at the latter, whilst Hermione checked some books out of the library.

Harry had finished all of the assignments given him, and extra, but he felt it preferable to lie in bed, bored, then sit in the common room, bored, where people sat and stared at him constantly.

Time crawled by, and eventually the other boys arrived to go to sleep. Harry grunted and rolled over, eyes closed, pretending he was already asleep. He felt their eyes run over him, with all of them radiating some degree of concern for him.

Some time later, their breathing finally evened out into the regular breathing patterns of those that are unconscious, and Harry's eyes snapped open. Something, somewhere, was happening.

How he knew that Harry had no idea, it was just instinctive, like when he'd magnified his vision in Herbology, or when he'd ducked the wave of potion Neville had accidentally knocked in his direction the other day.

Just as he was about to get out of bed and check it out, one of the other boys moved in their sleep. Or so Harry assumed, until Neville heaved himself out of his bed. Swiftly shutting his eyes, Harry relaxed his facial expression, as Neville scanned the dorm room with his eyes.

Neville had slimmed down over the holidays, and muscled up a bit. He no longer looked like the class clown, but a refined, gentle person, similar to Professor Lupin in looks, although no-where near as old.

He'd obviously learned stealth over the holidays as well, if the way he crept out of the dorm room was any indication.

Harry waited for the count of fifteen breaths, then followed after him, his body naturally falling into the tracking of pre…a person. Leaving the glasses he no longer needed, on his bedside table, Harry went through the door Neville had left open and followed the disturbed air currents.

He'd gone through the portrait of the Fat Lady, and was stealthily making his way along the cold, dark stone hallway by the time he caught sight of Neville again.

Upon seeing the boy's back, Harry automatically flattened himself to the side of the hallway, his fingers tensing in the rough stone. Neville tensed and paused, his head tilting to the side, fists clenching.

Harry cursed in his head. Sure he was pressed to the side of the corridor, but still in plain view should Neville choose to…

Neville spun around, wand appearing out of no-where and pointing back the way he'd come. His gaze swung from left to right, taking in the dark, empty corridor behind him. Turning sideways, Neville checked the way he was going just to be extra sure, then continued on his way.

Neville made it to the end of the corridor, then swung around a corner and disappeared, going down to the lower sections of the castle.

A few minutes passed once he'd gone, then Harry released his hold on the ceiling, and lightly dropped to the ground.

He landed in a light crouch, as soundlessly as he had leapt up in the first place. Harry bowed his head for a moment, examining his hands as he brushed them off, then his head came up, green eyes glinting as a smile spread across his face. Maybe this veela thing wasn't so bad after all.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Harry's smile vanished, all too quickly remembering how he gained these abilities - by using others as a food source.

Leaving it for now, Harry also refrained from wondering how he'd gone from being pressed against the side of the corridor, to clinging upside down to the ceiling, with his bare hands. Absently dusting himself off once more, Harry moved down in the direction Neville had gone, hoping there wouldn't be any more close encounters again tonight.

Chapter 9 : Spider to the fly?(fly à insect à bug spy)

Neville had slowed down, according to the air currents, and Harry immediately adjusted his own speed accordingly.

What the hell was Neville, of all people, doing down in the Main Hall? To begin with Harry had been sure he'd been headed to the dungeons, but about halfway there Neville had paused, and Harry had been close enough to hear him swear briefly, before turning on his heel and changing directions.

At first Harry had assumed Neville had realised he was being followed, but Neville hadn't tried to draw him out, or wavered from his new course once.

Neville had gone down to the entrance hall, and Harry hovered on the stairs above it, pressing close into the shadows, lest Neville look up.

Just as Harry was about to go down and see what Neville was looking for, the sound of footsteps made him dive behind the large painting on the wall behind him. Holding his breath, Harry gripped the painting at the edges, and dragged it as close to him as possible, to make it look like it was hanging normally.

"Did you get away all right?" The husky voice sounded as though it was right next to Harry, and he almost jerked in alarm, until he remembered his improved hearing and managed to control his reaction.

The voice sounded harried, but familiar despite that fact.

"Yes, Draco. They were asleep, it was remarkably easy, except for…"

Draco…Harry knew the Slytherin had been up to something lately. Even if Harry had been out of it a bit, there was that incident in the shed, and the lack of animosity from the Slytherin had registered even on Harry's rather…distracted brain.

"Even Harry was sleeping? And what do you mean; except for…? Did something happen? Are you sure you weren't followed?"

The green eyed boy stilled, forgetting to breathe, when he heard the concern in that husky voice. Why would Draco be concerned about him? He should be jumping for joy that his enemy…hang on, how did they know Harry hadn't been sleeping? He'd be so careful not to attract attention.

"Yep, he was sleeping like a baby. At least we have that piece of good news, anyway."

"Neville! Were you followed!"

Harry's eyes widened at the sound of Hermione's urgent voice. Hermione…was involved in this? Harry had suspected it since the note incident, but having the proof of it shoved into his face was just too much, and he suddenly found himself having trouble breathing.

"Well, I thought I was, but when I checked there was no sign of anybody. I was using that Revealingto spell you taught us Hermione, so there was nobody using an invisibility spell, or an invisibility cloak, or anything like that. There was just…nobody."

Harry fervently wished he could see what was going on. All he could do was listen, and despite his enhanced hearing, he still didn't know if they were secretly signalling he was hidden, or who else was out there. There had definitely been more than two sets of footsteps coming towards him, but he couldn't _see_ who was there.

All of a sudden Harry could hear people moving, through the rushing noise in his ears. His friend, one of his best friends, was meeting with the person who was supposed to be Harry's enemy, behind his back, and now they were scurrying off to go have a secret meeting or something, somewhere. And Harry _couldn't_ see.

As soon as the thought fully penetrated Harry's mind, he realised that it was actually true. He couldn't see. Not couldn't see, as in, it was too dark to see. As in, he couldn't see the light that had been seeping around the edges of the painting.

All sound stopped, and Harry panicked, thinking he'd gone deaf as well as blind. Letting go of the painting, he reached up with a trembling hand to his ears, tracing their familiar shape in the endless dark he'd been so suddenly plunged into. From there, he felt his way across his face, reaching his eyes and feeling his eyelashes fluttering against his fingertips.

Cautious, gentle fingertips told Harry what he already knew. His eyes were wide open, yet he couldn't see, and his eyes didn't even sting at the contact.

"Draco, you know Neville's abilities better than anyone,"

Hermione's voice, crystal clear, reached Harry's ears, and he calmed, glad he was able to hear still. Her voice sounded hesitant, the tone one Harry had only ever heard her use with people she deemed important, like her Professors.

"Yes, Hermione? What are you getting at?"

A deep sigh followed Draco's words, as though she were reluctant to voice her thoughts. Something Harry had never encountered Hermione doing before, she always spoke her mind.

"He's never wrong about being followed. If the spell didn't work, then they must have found a way to get around it, or else I missed something. Neville always knows, Draco. I think we need to approach Harry, and soon, before things get out of our control."

"Okay. You can ease the way, and I'll talk to him in two days. I think that's as soon as we can do it, without making anyone too suspicious."

A rustle, and then two pairs of feet hurrying in the direction everyone else had gone before.

Harry just stood there for a moment, hands still touching his eyes. Slowly he lowered his arms to his sides, and then slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

Even when he felt the painting move away from in front of him, Harry couldn't see. Not even those splashes of colour which some blind people had described seeing.

After trying to snap his eyes into focus, Harry gave up and accepted that he'd have to find his way back to his dorm, without bumping into anyone, and without seeing where he was going. Might be a bit difficult, seeing how the staircases had nasty habit of swinging around when you were halfway up them.

Getting to his feet, Harry stumbled across the mini landing, walking until he bumped into the stone banister. Turning to the left, Harry felt his way along the banister, until he reached the bottom of the second set of stairs. Since he hadn't gone down the staircase, to the entry hall, Harry only had two flights of stairs to navigate, as opposed to three. Thank God for small mercies.

Harry gradually got the hang of it, only walking into a stone wall, four times, which, considering how much stone there was, was quite a miracle.

After what seemed an eternity, Harry reached Gryffindor tower, or at least he hoped it was. He walked until he met a wall, rather…abruptly, then felt along the wall until his fingers brushed the edge of a painting. Checking it was the right size to be the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry cleared his throat, and straightened.

"Is this Gryffindor tower?"

Cursing himself for not being able to think of something that didn't sound quite so stupid, Harry held his breath, hoping desperately that he wasn't standing there talking to a blank portrait hole, or the wrong portrait even.

"Of course it is dear, surely you can't have forgotten me already. Oh, or is this some kind of quiz, to test my knowledge? You really shouldn't just spring something like that on me dear, I need at least a day to brush up on my knowledge, why I was just talking to violet about quizzes the other day, and do you know…"

Yep, the right portrait all right.

"I was just checking your immediate knowledge, not beginning a long quiz thing…Snitcharoony."

The Fat Lady stopped talking abruptly, and swung outwards, brushing past Harry's nose with a blast of air. Harry walked forwards until his toes bumped into the wall, then carefully stepped in, gripping the sides of the hole to keep himself steady.

Getting across the common room was the hardest task, as people had a nasty habit of leaving things lying around on the floor, and Harry had no idea what new things had been added, since he hadn't been down long enough to notice recently.

Finally reaching the boys staircase, Harry was limping slightly, and could feel blood dripping from a gash on his hand. He counted to make sure he went up the right number of steps, noticing for the first time just how far up his room was in the tower. Harry stumbled getting in the dorm room, and instantly froze, holding his breath as he waited to see if anyone was awake.

All he could hear was the gently breathing of the boys, and the occasional soft snore from Ron. Neville's bed was suspiciously quiet, and Harry prayed he was still out.

Finally reaching his bed, Harry flopped down and yanked the covers over his head, telling himself the reason he couldn't see was because he had his covers over his head, and he would be able to see if he took the covers off. But he didn't take them off. If anything, he clutched them to him tighter, and finally fell asleep, completely buried in his sheets.

Chapter 10 : Nurse's office! No way!

Harry woke to the sound of people moving around, and alarms going off. Snuggling into his covers, Harry kept his eyes shut as he listened to the other boys getting out of bed and gathering their school materials together, content to remain abed for a while yet himself.

"Harry. Time to get up mate."

Ron's voice came from Harry's left, and he turned his head in that direction, opening his eyes to look at his friend. Or at least, that's what he meant to do.

Still shrouded in blackness, Harry opened and closed his eyes a few times, frowning as he tried desperately to blink his friend into focus, or even blurriness.

Harry's eyes snapped wide open as he remembered the previous night, and he started to hyperventilate as he realised his eyesight hadn't returned whilst he slept like he'd hoped it would.

"Harry! Calm down, what's wrong! Look, breathe, okay? Just breathe…yeah, like tha…"

Ron's voice petered out as he caught a glimpse of Harry's eyes.

Harry's eyes were always large and languid, with a vivid clarity of colour to them. Now, due to alarm they were even wider than usual, but instead of the startling green Ron always associated with Harry, his eyes were a misty white, with no pupil even visible.

"Ron…I can't see." Harry's voice was muted, a soft whisper of sound, and yet it caught Ron's attention completely.

**"Holy Fuck!"**

Ron's bellow was loud enough to wake the rest of Gryffindor tower no doubt, and did very little to make Harry feel better.

The other boys in the dorm crowded close to Harry's bed to see what was wrong, with a bleary-eyed Neville in the lead. As soon as they saw Harry's clouded eyes gazing at them blankly, they froze before bursting out with questions, voices rising as their alarm did.

Ron caught a grip of himself and realised he needed an expert. Someone who knew how to handle tricky situations.

Seeing how Harry was the one who needed help this time, he went to the next best person. Hermione.

Running out of the room in his mismatched pyjamas, Ron hurtled to the foot of the stairs which led to the girls' dorm and pounded on the door, uncaring of the unusual picture he made or the looks he was getting from those Gryffindors who were already in the common room.

A disgruntled Lavender opened the door, but refrained from commenting when she saw the expression Ron was wearing. Pulling away from the door, she half turned as she called up the stairs to someone.

"Someone get Hermione,…it's Ron."

Half an hour later they'd successfully got Harry dressed, although he'd refused to let them help and had ended up putting on what they handed him to wear. Hermione had been put in charge of getting his outfit together, given Ron's penchant for bright, cheerful colours, and his lack of discretion in using them.

This resulted in Harry wearing tight black jeans, and a baggy, dark blue top, which clung lovingly to his skin, but still managed to look scruffy.

They all had a free first lesson, so Hermione had argued there was no point in putting his robes on since Madame Pomfrey would no doubt just get him to take them off again. Harry had winced at that remark, and stopped arguing, deciding he didn't want the good nurse to have any reason to undress him.

That had been the easy part. Then they'd had to carefully guide Harry through the castle's hallways, and keep him from returning to his bed after all the stares and whispers that had followed him. Ron had demanded to know how Harry knew he was being stared at, and Harry had hastily shut up, not wanting to tell his friends he could literally feel the waves of lust being directed at his form.

After navigating the corridors Harry had balked at the door to the hospital wing. Neither of his friends could understand it, but Harry seemed petrified of going near the nurse.

Just as Hermione was about to lose her patience, a certain Slytherin headboy sauntered up, arm loosely wrapped up in bloody towel.

"Granger. Weasley…Harry."

Hermione raised her chin, a slight smile appearing on her face at Draco's choice of names. Ron scowled, but remained silent, determined to help his incapacitated friend as best he could.

"So, what is the golden trio up to? Breaking in to steal medical supplies?"

Ron's eyes flashed, and he stepped forward to defend them as Harry averted his face to the wall, not wanting Draco to see him like this for some reason.

"Actually, we're here because Harry needs medical attention. And yourself?"

Draco raised his arm in silent explanation, the blood stains clearly visible now Ron chose to look at it. A smirk rested on Draco's face, but the eyes he turned towards Harry were worried.

Running his eyes appraisingly over Harry's silent form, Draco missed the flash of triumph that lit Hermione's gaze when she saw the way Draco lingered on Harry's butt.

Shivering under the intensity of someone's gaze on him, Harry hunched his shoulders briefly, before recognising that this felt different than the other times he was watched. This felt warm and comforting, whereas before it always felt dirty in some way.

Brushing it off as fluke, Harry turned in the direction of the feeling and raised his eyes.

"Please don't do that."

Startled, Draco ripped his eyes from Harry's butt, and looked up. Meeting Harry's gaze, Draco was shocked and concerned when he realised what was wrong with him.

Hermione looked at Harry in surprise for a moment, raising an eyebrow as she contemplated how Harry could possibly know Draco was checking him out.

A cough interrupted them, and all turned towards Ron, who was regarding them with an indecipherable expression on his face.

"Right, well, I'd better get this seen to before I start dripping on the floor. You two might as well go, I doubt Harry will be out in time for his lessons this afternoon."

Hermione seemed to consider for a moment before she turned to go, gently squeezing Harry's arm as she went passed. Strangely enough Ron even went quietly, touching Harry's shoulder as he went.

Draco waited until he was sure they were both gone, then held the door open for Harry to go through.

"No, I'll follow you, if you don't mind."

Resigned though Harry was that he had to see the nurse, he'd be damned if he drew her attention to him more than necessary, and if he had to hide behind Draco to accomplish that, then so be it.

Draco's brow crinkled, then he led the way. No one else was in the infirmary, and the strong smell of herbal tea suggested Pomfrey was in her office. Draco left Harry by the door, and went to fetch her.

Originally annoyed at the disturbance, the nurse's frown soon disappeared when she caught sight of Harry hovering by the entrance, looking like he was going to bolt any minute.

Draco looked between the two, wondering what he was missing, but a pang from his injured arm distracted his attention. Turning to the bed the nurse indicated he should sit on whilst she tended him, Draco resolved to keep an eye out whilst Harry was in there.

The jagged slash in Draco's arm was easily fixed, and a potion took away any lingering pain.

Ignoring Madame Pomfrey's slightly insistent suggestion that he go to his lessons now, Draco stood next to Harry when she moved on to examine him.

Draco raised an eyebrow when the nurse made Harry lie on a bed so she could examine him. She hadn't asked him to do that, and his was the more physical wound. It seemed even more peculiar since the position seemed to make it harder for her to examine Harry, if the way she leaned over him was any indication.

Or the way her breasts rubbed against him as she…

Oh.

Understanding at least part of Harry's hesitation to see the nurse, Draco subtly moved closer. Madame Pomfrey looked at him in irritation when he managed to situate his body between hers and Harry's.

"Mister Malfoy, I can't very well examine my patient if I can't touch him, now can I?"

Looking from her flushed, annoyed expression, to Harry's stiff body on the bed, unprotected, Draco felt a twinge in his chest. Before he quite knew what he was doing, Draco had moved closer to Harry, and lightly perched on the edge of the bed.

Harry stiffened more if possible, and his wide, misted eyes fixed on Draco's face. Draco almost jumped, then instinctively held absolutely still, as those eyes seemed to look directly into his own, searching for something.

A moment passed, and then Harry slowly relaxed his body, the tension seeping away so subtly, it was impossible to tell he'd been tense in the first place. Draco looked back to Harry's face quizzically, but Harry's eyes had moved and Draco sharply reminded himself that Harry couldn't see at the moment. That was why he was in the infirmary in the first place.

Madame Pomfrey clucked in irritation, and Draco's gaze locked onto her as she bustled around the other side of the bed. After fussing with a tendril of Harry's hair for a moment, she inexplicably moved off in the direction of her office, leaving Draco staring at her back, a feeling of apprehension rising in him.

Before she disappeared into her office, Pomfrey turned and looked at them over her shoulder. A speculative gleam crept into her eyes, and Draco's inner warning system kicked in.

The same warning system that had saved his life countless times, was now clamouring at the look in his school nurse's eyes. Trusting to his instincts, Draco stood up and pressed his hand against Harry's shoulder briefly as he passed.

Somehow knowing Harry would understand his silent warning, Draco swiftly crept over to the infirmary window. Sitting on a bench directly beneath the window, dark head studiously bent over a book, was Blaise Zabini.

Draco whistled sharply, and Blaise's head jerked up. His hazel eyes met Draco's and comprehension flashed through them swiftly.

Satisfied the message had been received, Draco drew his head back in and returned to Harry's side. A faint thud from below the window was the only give away that Blaise had obeyed his orders; dropping the book and running for help.

Just as Draco perched on Harry's bed again, the door to Madame Pomfrey's office opened, and she came out. One hand carefully cradled a goblet full of potion.

Despite being unable to determine what the potion was from his distance, Draco could still see the viscous red fumes that rose from it.

"Here. I want you to drink half of this each. Draco, maybe you should drink first, then Harry won't have to worry about leaving enough for you."

Draco? Harry? What happened to 'mister'? Draco looked at the potion, the twinkle of anticipation almost hidden in the nurse's eyes, and the only viable escape route. The door across the room, with three beds and one nurse in front of it.

Rapidly calculating his chances, Draco knew he'd have to take out Madame Pomfrey in order to have any chance at escaping with Harry as well.

Playing along for now, Draco stood up and went over to her.

As he approached a smile spread across her face, impossible to hide. She tried to turn it into a smile of encouragement, but nothing she did could hide the sinister delight in it.

Accepting the goblet she offered, Draco raised it cautiously and sniffed. Ansniffele and Rose-crops were the only distinguishable scents, and there were only two potions those ingredients could be used in; lust potions, and anti-disfigurement potions.

Seeing how Harry didn't have any visible problems, except for his lack of sight, and Draco knew exactly where all of his scars were, Draco felt it safe to assume the potion was not the latter.

As Draco hesitated, Madame Pomfrey rubbed against him, causing him to freeze.

Taking advantage of his surprise, the nurse rubbed against him harder, then pulled his head down to fasten her lips to his. Expertly forcing her tongue into his mouth, she made use of her access, thoroughly exploring him.

Keeping his head occupied with her mouth, and his hands hampered by the goblet, she held him by the neck with one hand and ran the other down the front of his body.

Belatedly realising she'd charmed the goblet so that his hands would stick to it, Draco tugged frantically, but both of his hands were stuck tight, effectively handcuffing him.

Just as Draco was getting really pissed off with this nurse, who appeared, for all intents and purposes, determined to rape one of her patients, the door to the infirmary burst open.

A blast of blue tore Madame Pomfrey away from Draco, and he slumped to his knees, feeling dizzy from lack of oxygen.

While the nurse was pinned to the wall by the blue, Draco gathered his breath and dignity, as best he could, seeing how he was on his knees, with his hands attached to a goblet.

Blaise and Snape ran in and checked to make sure Harry was all right, allowing Draco to gather his feet on his own, as they knew he'd want to. Dumbledore stood in front of Madame Pomfrey, shaking his head in disappointment.

Professor Snape checked Harry over briefly, and let out a shocked gasp when he saw Harry's eyes. Harry recoiled as though slapped, and Draco immediately went to Harry's side, glaring at Snape in reprimand.

The Professor lowered his head slightly, apologising as much as his pride would allow. Draco went to place a hand on Harry's shoulder, but remembered the goblet just in time. Moving so that his body lightly brushed against Harry's, he felt the tension begin to seep out at his touch, and idly wondered how much Harry knew had happened.

Professor Dumbledore put Madame Pomfrey to sleep, and made sure she would be unable to move even should she wake up, then came over to see what had made Snape falter.

After examining Harry's eyes, he lightly sighed and patted Harry's hand.

"Ah yes, I was expecting something like this to happen, just not so soon, still…" Dumbledore broke off, as his brain followed a trail of thought unknown to the others.

"Don't worry Harry, you're eyesight will return. At a guess I'd say it will be a day or two, but all we can do is wait I'm afraid. Mister Malfoy, Mister Zabini, I'm sure you won't mind ensuring Harry gets back to his room all right, will you?"

"The best we can do is have you come for a check up every day, I'm sorry Harry. I know this is the last thing you need, but it's the only course of action available. And don't worry, I'll make sure Madame Pomfrey doesn't bother you again."

Bestowing a nod and a benevolent smile on all present, the aged wizard then exited the room, the unconscious Pomfrey floating out after him.

Fixing his Godfather with a stare few could rival, if any, Draco arched an expectant eyebrow. What the hell did Dumbledore mean, 'he'd been expecting something like this'?

His Godfather held Draco's gaze for a moment, then turned and exited himself, snapping a half-hearted, "You heard him, get Potter to his room." behind him.

Great, his own Godfather knew what was going on, and obviously had no intention of telling him. Right, well that would definitely have to be brought up at the next joint meeting, as well as the point of Harry's safety. Honestly, the bloody school nurse almost had Harry in her clutches! To Draco that kind of slip was unacceptable, and changes would have to be made immediately to ensure the incident was not repeated.

"Draco, do you want me to remove that goblet, or are you growing attached to it?"

Blaise's dry voice broke into Draco's thoughts, and his hazel eyes glinted with laughter, as he watched his leader leaning against Harry, idly tapping the bed post with the cup.

"I can do it myself, thanks."

Feeling his cheeks warm up ever so slightly, in the slight blush Blaise called 'cute', Draco thanked Merlin Harry was blind at the moment, and as such not privy to the miracle of a Malfoy blushing.

Clearing his throat, Draco took a quick look around to ensure there was nobody watching, then let loosed a tendril of gold magic to disconnect himself and the goblet.

Letting the wooden object fall to the floor with a hollow tap, the remaining lust potion spilled out across the floor, but Draco ignored it in favour of giving Harry a hand up.

Blaise remained a step behind, cleaning up the spillage with an agile flick of his wand, whilst Draco carefully guided Harry back to Gryffindor tower, avoiding the gawking students with some well-hidden secret passages.

Chapter 11 : That was a new experience

Draco helped Harry sit on his bed after he'd sent Blaise back to his normal tasks. A tingling swept over Draco as he did so, and he recognised the feeling of a ward accepting. Looking at Harry in surprise Draco wondered how Harry had created this particular ward, it should have been impossible as it had to be placed by someone other than the recipient.

Draco let go of Harry once he was sat down, then moved himself and perched on the bed which just had to be Ron's. Although he didn't harbour any major feelings of dislike towards the red head, the thought of how he would react to knowing Draco had actually been on his _bed_, was simply too tempting to miss.

Once Draco had let go of Harry's arm, a bone-deep chill had set in, and Harry instinctively drew his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to get warm again.

Seeing Harry shivering sent an unexpected pang through Draco's chest. The second such in one day, and Draco idly wondered if he had indigestion.

Taking off his own cloak, Draco reached through the wards on Harry's bed and draped it over the shivering golden boy.

Harry jumped at the feeling of something warm enveloping him, and automatically grasped at the edges of the cloak to keep it from slipping. The chill began to lift, and he fuzzily thought to ask how Draco had managed to reach through the wards when they'd sent Ron flying across the room.

"It's quite simple really. If you go through the wards, and someone else goes through them whilst touching you, the wards will read whether or not you want that person to go through them, and react accordingly. Although, once accepted, that person can go through them whenever they want."

Oh. Harry was surprised that Draco had known what he'd wanted to know, but then he realised he must have said it out loud. Why was he so tired all of a sudden though? The warmth of Draco's cloak, mixed with the soothing scent of cinnamon was gently lulling Harry to sleep.

"Did Madame Pomfrey…hurt you, Harry?"

Draco's hesitant voice dispelled the cloud of sleep, and Harry felt Draco studying him intently to discern his reaction to the question.

"No…She almost did, once…but, no."

A soft sigh sounded, filled with…relief?

"Did she…do…anything to you, Draco? I could hear some…but, with my eyes…I…"

"Hey, calm down." There was a rustle, and then a comforting arm wrapped around Harry's shoulders.

Harry hadn't even realised it, but he could feel moisture slipping down his cheeks, and had evidently started crying. Why he should be crying confused Harry, as he didn't even feel sad. Helpless, and angry, yes. But not sad, and weren't you only meant to cry when you were sad?

"It's okay, she wouldn't have been able to do anything even if Dumbledore and rest hadn't come when they did."

Draco sounded sure of himself, but worried, like he was concerned with Harry crying.

"I heard Blaise though. You were stuck to a cup, how could you have helped yourself? And, I was just…lying on a _bed_! I didn't even try to do anything!"

Draco was shocked by the amount of bitterness that had seeped into Harry's voice. Was the hero of the wizarding world reprimanding himself, for being blinded somehow, and as a result leaving Draco to the attentions of Madame Pomfrey?

Gripping Harry by both shoulders, Draco forced him to turn around, feeling better when Harry looked him in the face, even if Harry couldn't actually see him.

"Harry, listen to me, there was nothing you could do! Disregarding the fact that I could have handled myself, I'm used to getting some unwanted attention. Granted not normally to that degree, but I know how to deal with situations like that."

"What you should do, rather than beat yourself up over your current lack of sight, is try to turn it into an advantage. I'm sure Dumbledore was right, and your eyesight will return, but whilst it is gone, why not train yourself to operate without sight?"

Harry stopped crying, listening to Draco's reasoning, and interested to know if he could train himself in such a manner.

"I've heard that blind people often find their other senses heighten, and you can turn that to your advantage. Imagine, when you get your eyesight back, you'll probably be able to smell things out, and only use your eyes to verify what your nose has told you!"

Harry laughed at the picture Draco painted, the idea of him hunting around with his nose to the ground reminded him of snuffles, and Harry was glad of the distraction.

"Harry? Why do you have this ward around your bed? You didn't do it yourself, did you?"

Draco held his breath for the answer. Harry couldn't have done it himself, so either he told Draco who had done it, or he lied. Despite feeling bad for luring Harry into a trick, Draco knew it was important to determine if Harry trusted him or not, and this would go a long way to answering that question.

"No, I didn't put it up. Snape did, on Dumbledore's orders. I'm not entirely sure why he did it, but Snape said something about keeping people out, extra privacy or something."

Well, reasonably honest at any rate. It sounded like something Dumbledore would do, and he would send Snape to carry out the order, but Harry was being just a bit too vague.

Anybody else would believe they'd been told the truth, but Draco could worm out the best liars, and something about the speech sounded just a bit off. Meaning Harry probably knew more than he was letting on about Dumbledore's motivations. Not surprising seeing how Dumbledore treated Harry like an equal, and the likelihood of him sugar coating anything for Harry was very slim.

A soft hoot interrupted the moment, saving Draco from saying anything, and both heads turned to the window, which was propped open slightly.

Draco rose from his seat, and opened the window the rest of the way. The owl, a magnificent school, tawny owl, swept in and proffered its leg to Draco.

Accepting the message from the bird, Draco ignored it as it exited through the window, preferring to read the note instead.

**__**

Bring Harry to my office. I have something I need to talk to him about.

Dumbledore

Short, to the point, and not very sweet. Despite the Headmaster's penchant for muggle sweets, it was exactly his style. And damn him for leaving Draco out of the loop on this.

Lightly shaking an unusually sleepy-looking Harry, Draco guided him out of the Gryffindor's tower and to the Headmaster's office, alternately cursing Dumbledore and thanking Merlin that the students were in lessons.

The statue in front of Dumbledore's office moved as soon as they reached, and Draco took advantage of the fact that they didn't need to bother with a password, ushering Harry onto the steps as fast as he could.

Once in the office, Harry moved to the seats with an ease which astonished Draco, until he reminded himself the amount of times Harry had no doubt been in there.

"Draco, you may wait outside, if you please."

How Dumbledore managed to sound so polite, and yet stubborn, Draco would never know. He'd been told many times that he was very good at leading people, yet Draco doubted he would ever be as good at subtly ordering people as Dumbledore was.

"Now, Harry. I have examined Madame Pomfrey extensively, in an attempt to find out the cause of her reaction to you."

"It is my conclusion that when you fed off her, you inadvertently created a craving in her. The first feeding is always memorable, no doubt, and it was such an extensive feeding as well. From what I have gathered, it is very…pleasurable, to be fed on in such a manner, and it was so…intense, and uncontrolled, that Madame Pomfrey has regrettably become addicted."

"What! That's impossible!"

Dumbledore looked at Harry sadly, not bothering to hide it from the sputtering teen, as the boy was quite unable to see it at the moment.

"I've heard of addictions, and you can't get addicted from it just happening once! It takes a while…a gradual dependance…no…"

"Yes. This isn't the same kind of addiction as humans get, I'm afraid. There have been cases of something very similar, between a full-blooded veela, and a wizard, when the veela deliberately created such a reaction in the wizard, using their innate charm."

"I've sent Madame Pomfrey to St Mungo's. They are perfectly capable of treating such a case, so don't worry. She will be gone a while, and the teachers will fill in for her as each have quite sufficient medical training. There is a side effect to this type of addiction though, and she won't remember anything from the time the addiction began, to when it ended. I think it would probably be wise to leave the blanks unfilled."

"You have no need to worry about any further molestation from her, Harry. I have examined her thoroughly, and aside from what was brought on by the addiction, she has no desire for you or any of the other students. If she did have, I would have been unable to keep her on as school nurse."

"I understand that you will most likely distrust her when she returns, but we'll overcome any problems as they arise. I believe that is covering everything for the time being."

"Why don't you go down and allow Mister Malfoy to escort you back to your room. You look tired, and I can practically feel his anxiety and impatience from here."

Harry stood up from the chair, and moved over to the door, too numb to even nod at Dumbledore.

His feeding off of someone had produced that effect? How was he meant to feed off of anyone again? No doubt it probably wouldn't happen if he fed off them like Dumbledore had suggested, whilst they slept, but what if something went wrong?

Harry vaguely heard Draco asking him something when he got off the stairs, but Harry continued walking, deaf as well as blind.

Chapter 12 : Sometimes sight's not all you need - part one

Harry clutched his covers about him, the dratted shivering returning full force now Draco had left. Curling on to his side, Harry ruminated over everything he'd gone through lately.

All of Harry's life everything was straightforward…kind of. To begin with he'd been dumped with his aunt and uncle, when his parents had died in a car accident. After that everything that went wrong at the Dursley's had been his fault, and Harry had adapted to that viewpoint, even though he knew it was wrong.

Then came the letter from Hogwarts, turning Harry's life on its head, and introducing possibilities he'd never even imagined before.

Once in the wizarding world he'd been told the truth of his parents death, and understood it to be Voldemort's fault…not his.

In the wizarding world Harry was considered a saviour, and as such had been granted a lot of slack, in everything he did and every rule he broke, no matter how small it was.

Harry had not grown used to that, too many years with the Dursleys he guessed. Whatever it was, be it Harry's own nature, or his life with his relatives, Harry had never been comfortable with the praise showered on him, or the allowances made for his misdemeanours.

Then Harry had found out just how Voldemort had managed to kill his parents, and for a moment in time, it had been Sirius, Harry's Godfather's fault. Then it had all shifted again, giving Harry barely any time to adjust, and suddenly it was someone else's fault. Peter Pettigrew.

Harry had settled into living his life, growing up and acquiring crushes that were doomed from the beginning, with Voldemort occasionally trying to rear his ugly head.

Then Cedric had been killed in front of Harry's eyes. A teacher was revealed to be a fake, and was actually a Death Eater in disguise. Harry's life again turned around, so fast he barely even felt the shock at how easy it was for everyone to be tricked, even Dumbledore.

Harry withdrew slightly, unnoticeably, watching everyone, not trusting anyone. If someone said, 'hi,' Harry wondered why they'd done it. If someone looked more stressed than normal, or appeared too interested in him and his friends, Harry worried they were up to something.

Then, when Harry was getting over what he deemed his "paranoia", a whole other adventure had popped up, leading to the fiasco at the Ministry, and Sirius' death. Swiftly followed by Dumbledore revealing some "big secret", the prophecy which said only one out of Harry and Voldemort could live, and one would kill the other.

When he'd heard that, Harry's world had attempted to turn upside down again, and for a moment it succeeded. Before Harry realised that was what he'd known all along. Ever since he'd been a part of the resistance against Voldemort, whether consciously or not, Harry had realised what it would come down to.

And, in the end, Harry was fed up with having to re-acclimate himself to the changes that always seemed to occur in his world.

But this stuff, about his natural heritage. It had nothing to do with what was going on in the world around him. It was completely inside of himself.

And that, Harry believed, was the main reason he was having such difficulty accepting it.

The world, in its entire glory; Voldemort, Death Eaters, enemies, school work, Dursleys, conspiracy's, secrets, prophecies, rivalries…all of those Harry could deal with. He'd been doing so successfully his entire life, and he had no doubt he'd manage as an adult as well. But this…physical changes, odd "food" cravings, addictions, blindness…it was all just him. Just Harry. And that was something he couldn't control, couldn't fight, couldn't understand, at least…not yet anyway.

Letting go of his thoughts, Harry relaxed the tension in his body, and sank down into the bliss of unconsciousness.

Hours passed, and time slowly crept towards evening.

Screams of laughter rose up the stairs, from the common room, but Harry didn't stir.

In a dormitory across the school, and several levels below, another boy sat on his bed, scrolls of diagrams scattered around him. Blond head lowered in concentration, grey eyes scanned sheet after sheet, searching…

The boy plucked one diagram out from the rest, a clear depiction of the Great Hall, done in a style similar to that of muggle building plans. Raising it to his face, the boy stared at it in concentration, a frown creasing his normally serene brow.

A moment passed, and still the blond stared at the piece of parchment. After what seemed an age, a spark of gold appeared in the middle of the parchment.

Gaze not wavering in the slightest, the boy watched impassively as the spark grew, gradually encompassing the entire scroll. The parchment glowed brightly for a second, before vanishing.

The document before the boy was the same as it had been before, still depicting the Great Hall. But with some minor differences, some additions.

Up, by the ceiling in the Great Hall, were what appeared to be pipes. Apart from the fact they hadn't been there before, they were larger than normal, big enough to contain a person, if they crouched.

Tracing the pipes across the page, grey eyes narrowed as they ran off the edge, no doubt continuing to run along the part of the ceiling which wasn't covered on that scroll.

Gently dropping the sheet, grey eyes stared at it sightlessly for a moment, before a warm, victorious, light appeared in them.

"Gotcha."

Chapter 13 : Sometimes sight's not all you need - part two

As Harry tossed and turned under his dark-tinted sheets, he dreamed.

Nothing unusual in that, except this wasn't one of those lovely dreams he had, where he was flying high above the ground, his parents beside him.

Then again, this wasn't one of those nasty dreams, a.k.a.: nightmares, where Voldemort tortured and killed people who were for the most part innocent of any crime, and sometimes people who were guilty of crimes.

This wasn't even the type of dream Ron and the other boys liked to brag about the next day. Or, at least, Harry didn't think it was. It definitely wasn't something he normally dreamt though.

Harry dreamed of hands. Reaching, grasping, hungry hands. Shadows leapt around him, and everywhere he turned there were those damnable hands. Fingers curling, attempting to hook on Harry's body. Flashes of red wove around groups of these hands, whilst others were followed by hazy blues and greens. Yet, at the same time, Harry had the distinct impression that there were no colours. Just the endless black.

The hands were getting closer, fingers grasping more frenziedly than before, and Harry could almost hear a strange rushing sound as he twisted in his covers, sweat coating his brow.

Just as Harry was sure the dream was reaching some kind of climax, another colour appeared from the twisting shadows surrounding Harry. A colour unlike the others, so bright it appeared white.

The hands that accompanied this colour were different than the others. They didn't grasp, and they didn't hurry. They wound through the throngs of other hands, moving at their own pace, pushing gently but powerfully when other hands blocked the way.

The other hands melted away as Harry focused on the new pair, and soon they were all he could see, as even the shadows disappeared.

Just as the hands were about to reach him, Harry woke up.

Snapping open his eyes, Harry propped himself up on his elbows, absently wiping a hand across his face and removing most of the sweat coating his skin. Dark eyelashes flickered, but Harry sank back down with a sigh as he remembered he couldn't see.

Wondering what woke him up, Harry listened intently for a moment. There was no noise other than the sound of students in the common room, talking and laughing as they did the homework set for the next day.

Exhaustion crept over Harry soon enough, and he tugged the covers back around him when he felt the chill emanating from his chest once more.

Dark shadows crept across the room, touching everywhere except for Harry's dark corner. Drapes fluttered in the still air, and something creaked overhead.

The night seemed to hold its breath for a moment, then resumed its usual play of sounds.

Scuffling noises could be heard now, the strange dry whispering seeming to move all around the room. Harry sank towards oblivion, black hair spread across his pillow, eyelashes fluttering slightly.

A quiet click was muffled, then a hole opened in the right hand wall. From the hole, which was positioned near the ceiling, came a dark figure, dressed in a long, hooded, cloak.

Another quiet click was muffled, and the hole in the wall disappeared as though it had never been, leaving no sign of its existence, except for the figure.

Picking up the edges of the garment, the person moved over to Harry's bed on quiet feet, only a slight tap giving away their movements. Upon reaching the boy's bed, the figure shed the cloak immediately, then moved onto their robes.

Carelessly tossing their clothes in all directions, the figure never removed their eyes from Harry's sleep-troubled face.

Leaving their trousers on, the person touched their wand to their throat lightly. After muttering a quick, "Replisonar" the wand was then placed safely out of harms way.

"…Harry?…"

The voice was that of Draco Malfoy, but the boy's features when the drapes parted, were definitely not. The relatively unknown Ravenclaw, called Ben Sriften, had dark brown hair fashioned in an expensive haircut, and brown eyes. He looked fairly nondescript, but obviously took great pride in his appearance, if the craftsmanship of his clothes was anything to go by.

Harry turned slightly, as the voice registered in his sleep-fogged mind.

A grin appeared on Ben's face as he saw his plan working. A grin formed, part of triumph, part anticipation, and part malicious intent.

"…Harry, take my hand, I need to check your pulse. You can go back to sleep afterwards…just do this, one, small, thing…"

Harry rolled over completely, facing in Ben's direction now. He sleepily held his hand in the direction the voice had come from, eyes opening briefly, but still seeing nothing.

Ben reached eagerly for the hand, only just remembering to take it gently. Soon enough he'd be taking everything, so waiting a moment more wouldn't hurt any.

Feverishly warm skin touched Harry's hand, and he had a flashback to his dream, focusing in on one of the hands, one of the ones with green accompanying it.

Instantly jerking back, the cold hiding under Harry's skin overflowed, spilling out into the dorm room. Not Draco.

Harry pulled back from the stranger in his room, backing away from the edges of his bed and curling into a ball against the wall his bed backed up against.

"Harry? What is it, what's wrong?" Draco's voice sounded worried, but underneath Harry heard an undercurrent of alarm, verging on panic. Not Draco.

Harry almost questioned how he was so sure of that fact, but the eddies of cold billowing out from him made him pause. He wasn't human, some things probably just went with the territory.

The next half an hour passed in a blur. The Not Draco person kept talking to Harry, asking him what was wrong, trying to get Harry to give him his hand so he could check Harry's pulse and then go. Harry ignored whatever came from that familiar, yet not-right, voice, and instead focused on the direction the sound was coming from.

To begin with the voice had been still, and used distance in an attempt to get Harry's guard to go down. That had been followed by pacing close by, but now the voice was still again, and further away than before. Near the door, Harry knew, though how he knew was beyond him again.

After what seemed an age, Harry heard the sound of voices coming up the stairs to the dorm. The imposter couldn't hear them yet, but when he did, he'd bolt, and then Harry would know he'd been right.

Ben was frustrated out of his mind. He'd tried everything, from talking soothingly, to wheedling, to cursing. Nothing seemed to get to the object of his desire. It was almost like Harry was just blocking it all out.

Why Harry had reacted the way he had, Ben had no idea. One minute his plan was going along perfectly, then Harry had clammed up like a shell the next. Even going so far as to curl up against the wall.

Maybe Ben had overestimated the friendship Harry and Draco now shared, but it was getting pretty obvious Ben wasn't going to get through to Harry tonight.

Voices reached his ears, and Ben swiftly moved over to Harry again.

Considering how quietly he'd walked, Ben was rather surprised that Harry didn't jump when his voice came from so near.

"…I give up! I guess I'll just have to tell Madame Pomfrey that you refused to let me take your pulse, and you can deal with her wrath!"

Making his way over to the secret door in the dorm wall, Ben pressed on the wall in several places, listening for the discreet click which meant it was opening.

Once Ben had hoisted himself up, into the opening, he pressed from the other side, and the door slid shut, just as Harry's dorm mates entered the room.

Thanking Merlin for whoever was clever enough to have built these tunnels, all the way around the school, Ben sorted through his hastily gathered clothes, and pulled the long robe over his head. It covered everything, and he didn't have time to put everything back on properly. Quietly crawling along the pipe tunnel, Ben stuffed the rest of his clothes into his various pockets. He was too intent on getting back to his dorm, to notice he was one garment missing.

In Harry's dorm, Ron and the others were stopped just inside the door, by the blast of cold air that hit them. Startled, after the warmth of the common room, to come to bed in a freezer, they stood there stunned for a second.

Neville's eyes made a slow circuit of the room, and then widened when they landed on Harry's bed.

The beautiful boy was curled against the wall, deep shivers racking his slender form. His black and green covers were tousled, and he looked like he'd been having a fight with someone on it.

Wearing only a pair of black boxers, the young man had wrapped his arms about himself, and his pale skin seemed to glow in the dark.

Neville blinked, convinced his eyes were playing a trick on him, and when he looked again, Harry had opened his eyes.

Those once green orbs were pointed in their direction, a golden light shining from the white mist which had replaced them.

Each boy felt that look like a blow, but shook it off in favour of getting some sleep. Putting away their school stuff, Ron was about to retrieve his pyjamas, when he saw something sticking out from under his bed.

Picking it up, Ron was surprised to see it was a dark purple tie, the initials B.S. neatly embroidered at the bottom in gold thread.

Looking from Harry to the tie, and back again, Ron frowned in confusion.

"Harry, do you know whose tie this is?"

Harry just shivered harder, and the temperature in the room took another dip. Water on the windowsill from when it had rained earlier, took on a white tint, as it froze solid.

Tucking the tie away for safe keeping, Ron followed the others to the bathrooms, basking in what was normally quite a chilly walk. Once they'd all got back, and tucked up in bed, Dean flicked his wand and turned off the light.

Curled up in shivering heaps, the boys burrowed under their covers, thinking Harry had gone to sleep in his position. He hadn't.

Long after the others all dropped off to sleep, Harry lay wide awake, curled up against the stone, shivering from the cold emanating from his form.

Chapter 14 : Sometimes sight's not all you need - part three

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, even though next to no one was around to witness the colourful merging of oranges and pink, which spread across the sky.

Nothing moved in Harry's dorm room, not even the rise and fall of chests taking in oxygen could break the utter stillness the room held.

All of the boys were still asleep, huddled deep under their covers, except for one.

Harry had remained awake all night long, misty eyes fixed at a random point throughout the night. His hair remained glossy, despite the sweat which had covered his body when he'd woken from the strange dream he'd had. The only thing visible other than his head, was a tangle of arms and legs, as Harry hunched in on himself defensively.

That strange chill still permeated the air, and if one approached the stone-like boy on his bed, they would have noticed immediately how much colder it was closer to him.

Finally, in a dreamlike movement, Harry turned his head towards the window. A cold breeze rippled through the room, spreading out towards the windows.

Each of the unconscious boys shivered in their sleep, and burrowed even deeper under their covers, as the silent wind moved over them.

Harry's unseeing eyes lighted upon the drapes, still drawn across the window. The frigid air pushed the drapes aside, allowing the warm morning sun to spill into the room.

Outside, the icicles that had formed on the window ledge, melted as the sun heated what had so quickly chilled, and a slight smile appeared on Harry's face.

Remaining in his bed, which the sunlight still couldn't penetrate, the boy-who-lived finally slipped under his covers, damping out the chill that was still emanating from him, as the sun thawed out the room in time for the other boy's to awaken.

Hours passed in silence, as Harry's bed grew colder and colder, whilst the rest of the dorm room slowly heated to normal, lukewarm, temperature.

"Ugnh," One of the boys groaned, as he woke, arms raising automatically, as Dean squinted in the light pouring into the room.

He cautiously peeled his eyes back open after a moment, then clambered out of bed and went to get a shower. Always the early riser, Dean enjoyed getting the hot water to himself, for as long a possible.

As the brown haired boy went out the door, wash stuff under one arm towel hung on the other, he never even thought to notice the change in temperature.

Harry had History of Magic first period, and he was supposed to wait for Draco, with whom he was partnered in the class, to come and guide him down to breakfast.

For reasons Harry couldn't comprehend, Dumbledore seemed rather insistent that Harry spent as much time as possible with Draco. When Harry had questioned him on his reasoning, he'd infuriatingly replied, "He is more able to help you than any other."

After the night he had just spent, Harry wasn't so sure Draco was the best person to help him. Even though Harry _knew_ it hadn't been Draco who tried something last night, the person had tried to impersonate him. To Harry this could mean one of two things; the person sought to get to Harry through Draco for whatever reason, or the person knew Draco was the one who was meant to be helping Harry about and such.

Word had spread quickly around the school, that Harry had gone blind, and Harry was unsurprised that all it took were a couple of glimpses of him being helped to and from the hospital wing.

Now, even with the Headmaster's advice, Harry felt it would probably be safer, for both Draco and himself, if they were seen around each other either less than they had before Harry's blindness, or at the very least, the same amount. If Harry was seen to be relying on Draco, Merlin only knows how that could effect the blond, let alone how vulnerable it could make Harry to attacks. Last night proved that quite admirably.

Decision made, Harry felt his way to the bathrooms and locked himself in one of the private cubicles. Although their were communal showers in the bathroom, Harry was rather wary about showering in front of other boys after last night, especially since he couldn't see anyone enter and the running water would effectively cripple his hearing.

Washing as quickly as possible, Harry just managed to make out the sound of Dean exiting the bathroom, when he leaned back, out of the spray.

Grateful his friend had gone, Harry was still pleased he'd had the presence of mind to charm his towel, clothes and school bag to remain dry, and brought them into the cubicle with him. He only hoped the water didn't turn him around so he couldn't find them when he finished up.

After what seemed an age to Harry, but realistically was only about ten minutes, Harry reached up to shut off the water, shaking his head to rid it of as much water as possible.

Drying quickly, Harry tugged on the clothes he had brought with him, able to tell there was a t-shirt and jeans, but having no clue what he was wearing beyond that. He'd remembered his shoes, but clean underwear had managed to slip past him.

Ignoring the unfamiliar sensation of denim rubbing against his bare skin, Harry grabbed his bag, and carefully left the bathroom.

Forgoing breakfast as too nerve-wracking, not to mention embarrassing, as he couldn't see anything, but just knew everyone would stare at him, Harry made his way to Professor Binn's classroom.

The ghostly Professor was surprised to see Harry, and, surprisingly enough, commiserated with Harry when he explained his eyesight problem to him.

Assuring Harry that he would make sure notes from the class were given to him later, Professor Binns told Harry to just 'listen', and try to follow the lesson as best he could. Gratefully thanking him, Harry had shakily manoeuvred his way around the classroom, trying to get to his desk from memory alone.

Surprisingly it was quite hard, and that was no doubt a result of Harry always being bored to tears in this lesson, and halfway asleep all the time.

After the seventh desk he walked into, Harry realised just how much he relied on his sight normally, and swore he would pay more attention in this class in the future, no matter how tired he might be, or how droning the Professor's voice might sound.

Other students began to pour in just before the lesson started, and the Professor immediately got them to set up parchment and scrolls for note taking, before launching into another rambling speech on one historic event or another.

It was about twenty minutes into the lesson when Draco arrived.

A chill travelled down Harry's spine, reminding him of the muggle saying about someone walking over your grave. Feeling the blond's eyes on him, in a way the rest of the students' hadn't gotten close to, Harry could literally _feel_ the boy's aggravation from his seat across the classroom.

Not even bothering to apologise to the Professor for being late, not that the poor dead man noticed, given that he was too deep into reciting some long ago battle or whatnot, Draco moved into the classroom like a snake.

Gliding more than walking, Harry could hear the focus and grace with which the Slytherin moved, in every gentle brush of cloth against stone, and the light tap of his shoes as he stepped.

Upon reaching where Harry was sat, the boy settled into his chair next to Harry, and dug out his equipment.

Once he was set up, Draco turned and looked at the dark haired boy next to him. His hair was still wet from the shower, and was curling against his collar.

A tight black t-shirt clung to him like a smooth second skin, making his pale skin stand out in stark contrast. Tight black jeans clung scandalously close to his lower half, and his scuffed black boots gave him the overall appearance of a dangerous biker. All he needed was a hoop through one ear.

The desk in front of the boy was empty, which wasn't surprising, seeing how he couldn't exactly take notes.

Draco had been ordered by Dumbledore to ensure Harry's safety. Ordered. Something which even Dumbledore was generally wise enough not to try. Draco had allowed the slip to pass unnoticed this once, and had told the others the old coot had _requested_ his help, and he had graciously given it.

The last thing anyone could afford right now was to quarrel amongst themselves, and Draco would be damned if he would allow pettiness to get in the way of his work.

He'd assumed it would be easy for him to look after Ha…Potter. Sure, Dumbledore wasn't telling him everything about the problem, but it looked like he wasn't even telling Harry that. The mad old coot was incredibly fond of keeping minor, _very important_, details to himself, and revealing them at the latest possible second.

All Draco had thought he'd have to do was escort the boy to and from his lessons, take him to every meal, and possibly aid his studying as much as possible, due to his blindness. Draco had even been looking forward to a chance to study this fine specim… cough …_intriguing_ adversary.

However, Draco had apparently underestimated the boy, yet again.

Originally, he'd been surprised and a bit pleased, by the ease with which Harry had appeared to adapt to his company, given how they'd been enemies for years.

The first day of Draco looking 'after' Hogwarts 'golden boy', Draco had gone to collect him from the Gryffindor tower. Only to find out the 'golden boy' had vanished, and the Weasel had no idea where he'd gone.

After searching all over the castle, even going so far as to check the Gryffindor girl's bathroom, in case Harry had wandered into them by accident, and because the red haired Weasel had flat out refused, Draco had given up.

Turning to the very last place he'd expected to find Harry, Draco had turned up for class, only to find the damn Gryffindor already in his seat. Showered, clothed, and looking far too appealing for his own darn good.

After contemplating whether or not to rip Harry a new butthole, Draco decided Harry's present one was actually quite nice-looking from his viewpoint, and settled in to the lesson, planning to talk to Harry at the end.

Chapter 15 : Sometimes sight's not all you need - part four

The quiet murmur of voices from within the classroom was the only sign it was still inhabited. Two voices. Harry and Draco, apparently having a heart-to-heart. Either that, or Draco was chewing Harry out for wandering off this morning.

Pondering that strange thought, Ron decided to leave the two alone. That wasn't something he'd normally do, considering he intensely disliked the ferret, and was fiercely protective of Harry.

But Draco hadn't exactly been acting like his normal slimy self lately either, so maybe there was something in the water. Only problem with this conclusion was that Ron avoided water at all costs, only drinking the boring fluids when his mother nagged him. Which was generally during the summer, when he visited home.

Mind you, the expression on Malfoy's face when he thought he'd lost Harry this morning…

It was almost enough to make Ron feel like comforting the bloke.

Shaking off _that_ thought, and for some reason feeling ridiculously pleased that thoughts which included Draco still had the power to disturb him, Ron returned to the reason _why_ he was willing to leave Harry, helpless and alone, with Draco Malfoy. Another Slytherin.

Spotting a particular head of sleek blonde hair, turning the corner towards the library, Ron grabbed his bag and tore after it.

Slowing down to a light jog, Ron stopped completely just before he reached his target's presumed destination. Surreptitiously plastering himself against the stone wall, he gingerly peeked around the corner.

Walking into the library casually, his quarry didn't appear to have spotted him. Good. That should make things go a lot easier.

Waiting until the coast was clear, Ron counted to ten, then snuck up to the library door, and eased his way inside.

The dim lanterns on every desk did little to discard the gloomy shroud covering the room. The highly placed windows had thick black curtains blocking out the daylight, and the rows of bookcases held the darkest shadows in the room.

As soon as the door swung shut behind him, Ron darted towards those aisles of books, concealing himself in the deepest shadows whilst he waited for his eyes to adjust to the difference in light.

Finding one of the many tables and chairs concealed among the shelves, he quickly removed a few choice books from his bag and spread them across the desk, creating the impression he had been there for a while.

Leaving his table, bag and books, Ron took off through the aisles, scanning the books as he went. Wand contained in his robes pocket, and crumpled book list in his right hand, he searched for the quarry which had brought him there.

"Oof!" "Ow!"

The breath momentarily knocked out of him, Ron's blue eyes squinted at the person who had cried out in pain. It had been a very feminine-sounding voice.

Sure enough, there, rubbing her elbow, was his blonde haired prey.

Gingerly straightening up, Ron checked her over for damage, and decided she'd probably hit him with her elbow, which was why she was holding it. Nothing too serious hopefully, but still, not the best of starts either way.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you. Are you okay? Do you need to go see the nurse?"

Surprised blue eyes jumped to his face. Taking in who he was.

Shaking her glossy blonde hair over one shoulder, she shrugged with the other one, a slight smile curving her lips, even as she made to back off, eyes cautious.

"I'm fine, it's just a bump. I hope I didn't hurt you or anything, but I should probably get back to my homework. Sorry, again."

Tilting his head as though a thought had just occurred to him, Ron shifted forward slightly, leaning against the nearest bookcase to put her more at ease.

"You're Pansy, right? I've seen you hanging out with Malfoy a few times."

"Yeah, hi, and you're a Weasley, obviously. Hair's a dead give-away, as well as your eyes."

"Thanks for the pointers, I'll have to remember that in the future. If I don't want to be recognised as a Weasley, I should transfigure my hair and my eyes a different colour." She laughed slightly, eyes crinkling depreciatingly, as she begun to turn around and walk away.

Casual, Ron cautioned himself. It _had_ to appear casual, but just enough to hook her interest and attention.

"You'd have to put a bag over your head by the way."

She paused, then looked over her shoulder, before turning to face him again. Taking on a slightly confused and defensive stance; hips cocked, head tilted, brows drawn, and hands loosely balanced on hips, she was definitely hooked. Now to reel her in.

"Excuse me?" Perfect blend of curiosity, derision, bewilderment, and the finishing touch - a dab of hurt. No doubt about it, she was a master at this game. Ron would have to remember to compliment her later, when this was all over. For now though, he'd beat her at her own game.

"You're so pretty, the only way to make you blend in would be to cover everything. Unlike me, where a few minor alterations are all that matter."

A slight intake of breath, and her lips twitched slightly. Eyelashes lowered demurely, but when they lifted again the twinkling in her eyes gave her away, despite her perfectly composed face. Yes! A direct hit, and she was his.

"So, what are you doing in here, Weasley? I didn't think you'd even heard of the library, and all rumours point to you having a particularly violent allergy to homework,"

"Ron." He dared to interrupt her, delighting in her evident confusion. Verbal games were better than chess, and good ones were all the rarer.

"Excuse me?"

Seeing she was slightly annoyed that he'd managed to outmanoeuvre her once again, Ron decided to quit messing around and get to work.

"My name is Ron. I have no intention of calling you by your surname, so you might as well extend me the same courtesy. Anyway, I do happen to have heard of the library before."

Putting on a slightly bitter face, which wasn't far from the truth, Ron continued.

"Despite popular belief, I _do_ have a brain, and I even know how to use it. Just because I don't talk academics all the time doesn't mean I couldn't if I wanted to. So, what are you up to then? Homework as well?"

"Yeah. It's not going so well though, I'm stuck on a dumb transfiguring question…Do you know the criticism of the fourth series of wand movements used to transfigure a stone into a statue? I've never been able to wrap my head around all this…dissecting of wand movements…seems pointless."

"Umm…I'm pretty sure that the common criticism is that it is so similar to the one which transfigures stone into water, meaning that if you get the slightest twitch wrong, you end up with watery clay."

"Thank you, that's solved my problem then. What about you, is their anything I can do to pay you back, anything you're having trouble with?"

Looking at her eager face, Ron noted the fact that she had been honest in her reason for being there, and felt a strange tug at his own deception. Still, he'd make it up to her in the long run.

"Well, Hermione was ragging on me about my reading habits again yesterday. She recommended a bunch of books for me to read, in the hopes of 'stimulating my mind, as opposed to killing what little remains'. One of the many reasons behind the conversations we have, but I thought I'd give it a shot, see if they're any good. If you could help me find them, that would be great. Then I can take them to my dorm before class starts."

"Sure, I'll take half the list, and see what I can do. I probably know the library better than you do anyway."

Ripping the crumpled paper in his hand, carefully in half, Ron handed it over to Pansy with a 'shy' smile. Watching until she'd walked off in the opposite direction, black school robes clinging to her curves, Ron shook his head in admiration. Whew. One _hot_ woman.

Chapter 16: sometimes sight's not all you need - part five

"Anything, Neville?"

A sigh, followed by the frustrated movement of a hand through hair, was the only reply he got. Still, it was more than he'd got the hour before.

Trying to put a philosophical perspective on it all, Blaise ran through all of the reasons behind what they were doing, and analysed his own motives and feelings. Nothing had changed, and yet his frustration had already given several people a small electric shock, despite the control he had on his powers.

The reason for that frustration was currently curled up on the floor next to him, books strewn in front of him, as he attempted to find the data Draco had requested.

Giving up on philosophy as a lost cause and not helping one bit, Blaise rested his own book against his legs, and peered over the top at his companion, gazing at the angel in front of him.

Hair which had grown over the summer was now falling in Neville's eyes, and his lean form was utterly relaxed, one leg kicking in the air lightly.

Releasing yet another sigh, this one more explosive than the first, the boy pulled an annoyed face, before marking his place in the book and putting it to the side.

Hastily returning his eyes to the book in front of him, Blaise desperately fought the blush that was threatening his cheeks. He'd been caught, he just knew it. I mean, sure, Neville hadn't even seen him, but what did that prove, huh? He was a wizard, not to mention in the circle of light, he had _ways_ of knowing.

"Blaise, stop it!" Neville's angry voice broke through the mental babble in Blaise's head, and he hesitantly raised his hazel eyes.

"I _know_ you like me, ok? I've known from the beginning. And, I didn't say anything, because I was hoping _you_ would _do_ something about it. But nooo…that would be too simple. Instead, you stay schtum, only talking to me about orders, missions, and occasionally, only if I'm lucky mind, you throw in some random small talk."

"We've never had a serious conversation about our personal lives! You've never even tried to hint that you like me, let alone actually asked me out! Well, I'm fed up of waiting! This…tension, is just…getting to me."

"So, how about it? Do you want to go out with me, Blaise?"

The moments ticked by, and Blaise just stared at the boy he was in love with, stumped. Did he want to go out with Neville? Hell, yes! If he'd known how Neville felt, he wouldn't have hesitated to approach him, but how did Neville know exactly? If Blaise never even hinted?

"Umm, how did you know I…"

"One of my talents, my extra special talents that is, is to know when I am being followed, or being watched…I can literally feel the eyes on me. I knew, every time you were watching me."

"To begin with, I didn't know why you were watching me, but I managed to piece it together. So? What's your answer?"

Neville had somehow managed to move closer to Blaise without him noticing, as he talked, and was now in front of him, leaning forwards. Placing his hands on either side of Blaise, Neville leaned even further, seeing his answer in the boy's beautiful eyes, but wanting it vocalised to make it official.

"…sure…"

Blaise managed to squeak, before Neville pounced, a devilish smile appearing on his face.

Pushing Blaise backwards, Neville went down with him, until they were both lying on the dorm floor, surrounded by the books they were meant to be searching. Then again, they'd just got together, surely that is cause to celebrate.

Reaching up, Blaise grabbed Neville before he could change his mind, and brought their lips crashing together. Chaste kisses, soon gave way as they explored each other's mouths with their tongues, getting progressively more intimate, until they were rolling around on the floor, too caught up to hear the knock at the door.

"Ah, I see you two have finally got your heads together, no pun intended, or necessary, it seems. And please don't do that on the books."

Tearing their mouths apart, the two boys lay on the floor in complete disarray, panting as they tried to get their breath back, and staring in horror up at Hermione, who stood over them wearing an amused expression.

"Congratulations you two, it took long enough. Now we just have to get Draco fixed up - I'm sure Ron's already working on his own chosen partner - and then the obvious couples will be complete. Okay, you two can snog later, but you still need to finish this research as quickly as possible, you know how much we need any information we can find to tell us about Harry's condition. I'd better stay, and be chaperone, otherwise you probably won't get anything done."

Nodding seemed to be the smart thing to do, so the two boys did just that, reluctantly disentangling themselves and picking up their books again.

Sometimes business isn't all that important, but now wasn't one of those times.

Chapter 17 : Sometimes sight's not all you need - part six

After apologising to Draco for scaring him in the morning, yesterday had gone surprisingly well, barring one minor incident.

Draco had been leading Harry down the corridor, steering him around the corners and the gaping students, as they headed for potions. They had been turning the last corner when Harry had felt it.

Brushing gently against his mind came the urge to look back the way they had just come. Not understanding why, Harry nevertheless did stop and turn around. Opening the eyes he'd been keeping shut since he'd lost his sight, Harry peered back the way they had just come.

A moment passed, and all Harry could see was black.

By now Draco had stopped and was looking at Harry in concern. He was just about to ask Harry what was wrong when Harry's expression changed. Gone was the blank look, and a slightly startled, slightly scared expression of wonder replaced it.

Strands of colour seemed to slowly seep into Harry's land of blackness, faint at first, but growing brighter. All different shades, some so similar it was hard to tell them apart. As the colours grew brighter, they began to resolve into different shapes.

Harry had begun to hope that this was a sign his vision was returning, when one colour in particular suddenly stood out from the rest.

Green.

A light, acid, green, off to the side of the corridor, almost seeming to be leaning against something. The wall. Someone was leaning against the wall back the way they'd come. The same someone who had crept into his dorm, and had meant him the same harm as Madame Pomfrey had.

As soon as the thought hit him, Harry knew it was true, and he could also feel the cold that had begun leaking out of him once more.

People around Harry shivered, but kept moving, not knowing where the sudden chill was coming from. All except for one.

Draco Malfoy had moved up next to Harry when he had seen the expression his charge was wearing. Adept at reading faces, this one was an open book to him, and Draco _knew_ Harry was seeing something. Then the expression had gone from wonder to fear to disgust, and the chill had begun.

Obviously, whatever it was Harry was seeing, he didn't like it one bit. Looking in the same direction as Harry, Draco made a note of everyone in sight, determined to find out if they were involved in any way with what was happening to Harry.

A boy straightened up from his position, casually leaning against the corridor's wall. At his movement, Draco noticed Harry's body turn to stone. It literally felt as though Draco was standing next to a block of ice, whereas before Harry had been a living being, practically radiating warmth.

Taking especial notice of the one who had, to all appearances, caught Harry's attention, Draco saw with surprise it was a Ravenclaw. Ben Sriften, if Draco remembered right, which he always did.

Why would a Ravenclaw scare Harry like that? Blaise would have to organise for the boy to be tailed, that was a definite.

Turning Harry gently, Draco was surprised yet again, when the boy offered no protest.

Leading the shivering boy to class, Draco never noticed Harry's eyes slowly closing, or the alarming way in which his skin temperature rose, yet cold continued to radiate off him in waves.

Harry, however, had felt it acutely then, and still did now, a day later.

Too shaken to take much notice of it then, it was now all he _could_ take notice of. Able to recognise the symptoms much faster now than he had before, Harry couldn't bring himself to go and find someone to feed off.

He'd tried brushing up against people, all day. All that had got him was concerned people asking if he needed help, and Draco Malfoy's quiet contemplation.

That was another thing which was pissing Harry off lately. It seemed, no matter what else was going on around him, Harry could _always_ sense when Draco was watching him. It had just been a vague feeling before, like the way he could sense others looking at him. But now he could practically give a full diagnostic on Draco's health, mental welfare, and his present emotional status. Which was, not only disconcerting, but confusing, and annoying, and really not what Harry needed right now…Argh…!

Cold air rushed through the room, ruffling bed covers, drapes and spilling Dean's homework across the floor.

Even more pissed off than he had been before, Harry turned and drove his fist into the dorm wall as hard as he could.

Stone groaned, and bent inwards, but held. Despite being magically reinforced, when Harry drew his hand back, there was a light coating of dust across his knuckles. Able to withstand the force of the punch, the walls had crumbled slightly at the impact, leaving Harry with a small dent in the wall, and pulverised stone on his hands.

Leaning wearily against the wall, Harry pulled his knees up and rested his head in his lap.

Hours passed and Harry remained in his present position. The thundering of feet and boisterous laughing reached his ears, and Harry knew the others were coming into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Staying tucked up in his isolated corner of the bathroom, Harry stayed quiet whilst the others cleaned themselves up, and didn't move, even when they went back to the dorm.

The night grew darker, Harry's friends fell asleep in the dorm they shared, and time passed in silence.

Harry remained where he was, in the dust that had resulted from his anger, too tired, upset, and muddled, to notice he had started glowing once more.

The bathroom had an odd night. One moment it was freezing cold, with icicles forming from the water dripping at the taps, the next blazing hot, like the inner depths of hell.

And through it all, Harry glowed.

Chapter 18: Sometimes sight's not all you need - part seven

If yesterday hadn't started off bad enough, this one was proving to be a hell of a lot worse. Yesterday, Harry hadn't been there when Draco went to pick him up in the morning, but that was okay, since he'd simply decided to go to lessons on his own, and he'd managed all right. He'd even apologised, so Draco had more than forgiven him, and assumed that Harry had understood the seriousness of his actions.

Apparently not.

Today Draco had got up even earlier than he normally did, which was usually 5:00 AM, just so he could check on Blaise and see if he'd managed to scrounge up any information on the Ravenclaw; Ben Sriften. Blaise had, as usual, come through on the sources front, and Draco had _not_ been pleased with what he'd been told.

A vague feeling of unease had pestered him continuously, another reason for his getting up early - he'd had trouble sleeping - so Draco had set off early to collect Harry. After all, waiting whilst the boy got dressed and gathered his stuff together would be preferable to sitting in his own room doing nothing. At least this way, Draco would be there to protect Harry should the need arise.

Only he'd gotten there, and then been told, _again,_ by the Weasley, that he had; "no idea where Harry was". Forgoing the same search performed the other day, Draco had raced down to their first class, only to find it completely empty, and the Professor not even there yet.

Now, Draco was fast approaching Gryffindor tower again, resolved to go through the search he'd carried out yesterday. Upon entering the common room he was greeted with a stunned silence, as the freshly woken Gryffindors stared at one of Slytherins most notorious ringleaders in sleepy shock.

Rejecting his usual, pasted on sneer, Draco climbed the stairs, knocking once on the dorm room door before entering, to alert the Gryffindors within of his presence.

Ron was staring at Harry's empty bed with dim befuddlement, his brain obviously not advanced enough to fully grasp the fact that his best mate had apparently vanished off the face of the earth. Again. Pointedly ignoring Draco's presence, Dean and Seamus went about their business as usual, with the minor exception of gathering Ron's gear together at the same time. Evidently, they had noticed their friend's lack of grey matter, and recognised he was incapable of the simplest of acts.

The only individual not ignoring him or minus vital brain cells, was perched on the end of their bed, bag clasped in both hands, nervously watching his perusal of the room.

"A word, Longbottom?" Not waiting for a response, Draco headed further into the room, studying the stone wall running behind Neville and Harry's beds, as he moved towards Harry's corner of the room.

Neville got up from his bed, and followed behind the Slytherin, leaving his bag behind as he did so. Not looking to the other Gryffindors, Draco trusted in Neville's acting abilities, and pretended impatient disdain whilst he waited for the other boy to make his timid approach.

"Yes, Malfoy? What ddo you wwant?"

Turning around at last, Draco leaned forward slightly, and lowered his voice, placing an inconspicuous mumbling charm at the same time.

"What's your report?" Immediately Neville's face lost its scared look, replaced by a calm confidence as he began recounting what he'd learned so far.

"He hasn't been sleeping well, if at all. Whenever I check he seems to be studying, whether its extra that has been set by Dumbledore, or something he's doing on his own remains unknown."

"He's withdrawn from the group. He never really talked or hanged out with the rest of the Gryffindors, but lately he's barely even spoken to Ron and Hermione, as I'm sure you've already heard from Hermione herself."

"It's hard to say what exactly is wrong, as he won't tell anybody, not even a hint. I can't even tell you if he knows himself or not, let alone if he is not telling of his own volition or because he was told not to by someone…"

Trailing off at the end, Neville looked at Draco, obviously expecting him to draw the same conclusion he had. The only person who would have told Harry not to tell his best friends something, with even the tiniest chance that he'd listen, would be Dumbledore. Obviously there was a _lot_ Dumbledore wasn't telling Draco about.

Scowling for real for once, Draco filed the information away for future use, along with the knowledge that his uncle had been ordered not to tell him anything as well.

"What about our present situation? What time did he come in last night? Did you hear anything - someone entering or leaving the dorm?"

Already shaking his head, Neville let his expression warn Draco that it wasn't good news.

"I did as you ordered, and stayed awake until he returned to the dorm. I haven't gotten any sleep since the other night."

"Ah." Neville waited patiently for Draco to recover from his stunned silence, ignoring the tempting opportunity to tease his normally unflappable leader. Grey eyes turned inwards contemplatively, as Draco turned the information over in his head. Automatically trusting to his powers, Draco searched his knowledge for clues, flaws, anything that would help with this mission. Normally driven, Draco had never felt quite this determined to succeed on one of his missions, and he hesitated a moment before brushing the feeling aside for later analysis.

A moment passed, as Draco frowned in concentration, then a golden light appeared to spark from within his eyes, growing brighter until the grey was completely engulfed by it. Neville shifted slightly, hiding Draco's face from the other's view, and watched the other boy's face for signs of what he'd found.

A long while passed as Draco observed the golden light obscuring his view, then snippets of memory flew out of nowhere, and laid themselves down across the parchment of gold.

**__**

As Harry went past each table, the Hall gradually fell silent, everyone staring and taking in the glowing, elfin boy who was, to their eyes, gliding through their midst. 

Harry looked around the Hall, his green eyes seeming to seek out someone in particular. Draco watched as those vibrant eyes landed on his own, searching them with his own for an instant, before he dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement of the gaze. A moment passed, then Harry nodded back, rose staining his luminous cheeks for an instant, before he averted his gaze. 

Harry absentmindedly pruned his Wiskerfey plant, evidently deep in thought, as he paid no attention to the fact that he was perilously close to overpruning the poor object of his inattention.

Just as Draco was reaching to stop Harry's automatic hand, the boy shook himself, as though returning from a far away place. Stopping Harry's hand with his own, Draco looked down in amusement as the boy glanced down in surprise, before lifting his gaze upwards.

Holding those vibrant green eyes with his own, Draco didn't miss the fact that Harry had stopped glowing since the welcoming feast, nor did he miss the fact that he looked just as beautiful without that strange luminescence. However, Draco had work to do, and couldn't linger over unimportant details. Reaching down, Draco carefully removed the sharp pruning shears from Harry's motionless hands, vaguely surprised when he received no protest. Glancing back up at Harry's face, Draco realised Harry's own surprise had rendered the boy silent, and allowed himself the luxury of true amusement, wondering absently about Harry's out of character behaviour.

"Wouldn't want you to fail Herbology now, would we?" 

"Yep, he was sleeping like a baby. At least we have that piece of good news, anyway."

Draco swallowed the relief that he felt at Neville's report, knowing he still had the rest of the meeting to get through, and now was not the time to relax.

"Neville! Were you followed!"

Yep, there goes that relaxation. Draco could practically feel it fly over his head. Ignoring his strangely rebellious thoughts, Draco tuned in to what Neville was saying, chastising himself as he knew how important this was.

"Well, I thought I was, but when I checked there was no sign of anybody. I was using that Revealingto spell you taught us Hermione, so there was nobody using an invisibility spell, or an invisibility cloak, or anything like that. There was just…nobody."

A shiver made its way down Draco's spine, and he would have called it a premonition, if he'd had that power. Luckily though, he didn't, and it was just a draft in a drafty corridor. Still…it might be a good idea to move the meeting to the proper place, hidden, and much less likely to be stumbled across.

"Draco, you know Neville's abilities better than anyone,"

Hermione's voice, crystal clear, easily sounded down the corridor. Blocking the urge to curse and hush her, Draco reminded her to be cautious as slyly as he could.

"Yes, Hermione? What are you getting at?"

A deep sigh followed Draco's words, and he knew she'd got the hidden message. She was far too stubborn of course, which was both an asset and one of the main causes of Draco's problems, and she'd evidently decided risking exposure was worth it in order to keep their hiding places secret.

"He's never wrong about being followed. If the spell didn't work, then they must have found a way to get around it, or else I missed something. Neville, always knows, Draco. I think we need to approach Harry, and soon, before things get out of our control."

Damnit, why did she always have to be stubborn about Draco interacting with Harry? For years he'd managed to maintain a distance from the other boy, and Draco was reluctant to abandon all that hard work, even if this way would make their mission more likely to succeed. Forcibly locking away his misgivings, Draco employed all of his professionalism, in order to make the right decision.

"Okay. You can ease the way, and I'll talk to him in two days. I think that's as soon as we can do it, without making anyone too suspicious."

Happy to have gotten her way finally, Hermione followed without protest as they made their cautious way to the proper meeting place, Draco breathing a silent sigh of relief that she was pacified for the moment. Now, all he had to do was come up with an alternate plan, which would work just as well… 

Almost at the infirmary, Draco hesitated at the sight of the 'golden trio' standing outside the door, apparently engaged in an argument about something. The hesitation didn't last very long, and Draco prepared himself for all possibilities as he made his approach.

"Granger. Weasley…Harry."

Hermione raised her chin, a slight smile appearing on her face at Draco's choice of names. Ron scowled, but remained silent, for one reason or another.

"So, what is the golden trio up to? Breaking in to steal medical supplies?"

Ron's eyes flashed, and he started to step forward, evidently against Draco's directness. But, honestly, how else was he supposed to find out what was going on?

"Actually, we're here because Harry needs medical attention. And yourself?"

Draco raised his arm in silent explanation, the blood stains clearly visible now, mentally thanking Hermione for her superb timing. Ignoring the others, Draco turned his attention to the strangely silent 'boy-wonder', surprised to see Harry had averted his face from them all.

Running his eyes appraisingly over Harry's silent form, Draco missed the flash of triumph that lit Hermione's gaze when she saw the way Draco lingered on Harry's butt. Draco didn't, however, miss the tight black jeans, and baggy, dark blue top, which were clinging to Harry's form. Finding himself suddenly caught, Draco remained incapable of pulling his gaze away, let alone speaking comprehensively.

Harry hunched his shoulders briefly, before turning Draco's direction and raising his eyes.

"Please don't do that."

Startled, Draco ripped his eyes from Harry's butt, and looked up. Meeting Harry's gaze, Draco was shocked and concerned when he realised what was wrong with him. The boy was blind. 

Harry stiffened more if possible, and his wide, misted eyes fixed on Draco's face. Draco almost jumped, then instinctively held absolutely still, as those eyes seemed to look directly into his own, searching for something.

A moment passed, and then Harry slowly relaxed his body, the tension seeping away so subtly, it was impossible to tell he'd been tense in the first place. Draco looked back to Harry's face quizzically, but Harry's eyes had moved and Draco sharply reminded himself that Harry couldn't see at the moment. That was why he was in the infirmary in the first place. Still, strange that the boy had known it was Draco, and even stranger that that had calmed him. 

After examining Harry's eyes, Dumbledore lightly sighed and patted Harry's hand.

"Ah yes, I was expecting something like this to happen, just not so soon, still…" Dumbledore broke off, as his brain followed a trail of thought unknown to the others.

"Don't worry Harry, you're eyesight will return. At a guess I'd say it will be a day or two, but all we can do is wait I'm afraid. Mister Malfoy, Mister Zabini, I'm sure you won't mind ensuring Harry gets back to his room all right, will you?"

"The best we can do is have you come for a check up every day, I'm sorry Harry. I know this is the last thing you need, but it's the only course of action available. And don't worry, I'll make sure Madame Pomfrey doesn't bother you again."

Bestowing a nod and a benevolent smile on all present, the aged wizard then exited the room, the unconscious Pomfrey floating out after him.

Fixing his Godfather with a stare few could rival, if any, Draco arched an expectant eyebrow. What the hell did Dumbledore mean, 'he'd been expecting something like this'?

His Godfather held Draco's gaze for a moment, then turned and exited himself, snapping a half-hearted, "You heard him, get Potter to his room." behind him. 

Draco helped Harry sit on his bed after he'd sent Blaise back to his normal tasks. A tingling swept over Draco as he did so, and he recognised the feeling of a ward accepting. Looking at Harry in surprise Draco wondered how Harry had created this particular ward, it should have been impossible as it had to be placed by someone other than the recipient.

Letting go of Harry, Draco moved and perched on the bed which just had to be Ron's. Although he didn't harbour any major feelings of dislike towards the red head, the thought of how he would react to knowing Draco had actually been on his bed, was simply too tempting to miss.

Draco had settled onto Ron's bed, when he noticed Harry draw his knees up to his chest, and begin shivering.

It was probably a natural reaction to the shock he'd just suffered, but still, the sight sent an unexpected pang through Draco's chest. The second such in one day, and Draco brushed aside the idea that he cared more then he should, replacing them with the idea that he had indigestion. Something easily cured.

Taking off his cloak, Draco reached through the wards on Harry's bed and draped it over the shivering golden boy. Noticing the way he jumped at contact, Draco pored through his knowledge of the golden boy, wondering what had made him so jittery. 

"Harry? Why do you have this ward around your bed? You didn't do it yourself, did you?"

Draco held his breath for the answer. Harry couldn't have done it himself, so either he told Draco who had done it, or he lied. Despite feeling bad for luring Harry into a verbal trap, Draco knew it was important to determine if Harry trusted him or not, and this would go a long way to answering that question.

"No, I didn't put it up. Snape did, on Dumbledore's orders. I'm not entirely sure why he did it, but Snape said something about keeping people out, extra privacy or something."

Well, reasonably honest at any rate. It sounded like something Dumbledore would do, and he would send Snape to carry out the order, but Harry was being just a bit too vague.

Anybody else would believe they'd been told the truth, but Draco could worm out the best liars, and something about the speech sounded just a bit off. Meaning Harry probably knew more than he was letting on about Dumbledore's motivations. Not surprising seeing how Dumbledore treated Harry like an equal, and the likelihood of him sugar coating anything for Harry was very slim. On the whole, the answer raised more questions than it answered. 

The document before Draco was the same as it had been before, still depicting the Great Hall. But with some minor differences, some additions.

Up, by the ceiling in the Great Hall, were what appeared to be pipes. Apart from the fact they hadn't been there before, they were larger than normal, big enough to contain a person, if they crouched.

Tracing the pipes across the page with his finger, Draco narrowed his eyes when he saw how the ran off the edge, no doubt continuing to run along the part of the ceiling which wasn't covered on that scroll. The situation was worse than they'd thought, if they'd managed to get such extensive secret passages, without being discovered.

Gently dropping the sheet, his grey eyes stared at it sightlessly for a moment, absorbing this new detail, before a warm, victorious, light appeared in them.

"Gotcha."

They weren't undiscovered now, and this information would help them a lot. 

Neville hurriedly pressed a note into Draco's hand, as he skittered past in the corridor. Not even pausing, Draco continued on his way to fetch Harry from his dorm room. When he was nearly halfway there, he smoothly swung into a little niche where he could open the note out of sight.

Something weird happened in the dorm last night.

The room was below freezing, and I swear a draft came from Harry.

He pretended to be asleep when we came in, but he was faking it.

Not sure what this means, but it felt important.

Re-reading the note, Draco frowned slightly. Below freezing? Draft from Harry? Sure, it was a little odd, but maybe the heating was playing up, like it did in the dungeons all the time? Still, if Neville had 'felt' it was important, then it undoubtedly was. Another of Neville's gifts, which linked in with sensing when he was under some kind of surveillance, but warned him of other kinds of threats. So the room being cold was dangerous in some way, but in what way? If only Dumbledore would open up, and give Draco something more to work with. Still, getting to Harry seemed more important than before, and Draco almost ran in his haste to get there quicker. 

Draco had moved up next to Harry when he had seen the expression his charge was wearing. Adept at reading faces, this one was an open book to him, and Draco knew Harry was seeing something. Then the expression had gone from wonder to fear to disgust, and the chill had begun.

Obviously, whatever it was Harry was seeing, he didn't like it one bit. Looking in the same direction as Harry, Draco made a note of everyone in sight, determined to find out if they were involved in any way with what was happening to Harry.

A boy straightened up from his position, casually leaning against the corridor's wall. At his movement, Draco noticed Harry's body turn to stone. It literally felt as though Draco was standing next to a block of ice, whereas before Harry had been a living being, practically radiating warmth.

Taking especial notice of the one who had, to all appearances, caught Harry's attention, Draco saw with surprise it was a Ravenclaw. Ben Sriften, if Draco remembered right, which he always did.

Why would a Ravenclaw scare Harry like that? Blaise would have to organise for the boy to be tailed, that was a definite.

Turning Harry gently, Draco was surprised yet again, when the boy offered no protest. 

Snapping out of his trance-like state, Draco immediately knew several things he hadn't focused on before.

Harry had been 'glowing' the first night back at school. The fact hadn't sunk in completely before, namely because the boy was just too captivating in that state for anything other than his beauty to register. Now that he thought about it though, Draco realised something must have happened to stop the glow, or Harry must have _done_ something, otherwise the boy would still be glowing.

Harry was aware of at least part of what was happening to him, and Dumbledore definitely knew more than he was letting on. Severus also knew something, and out of the others who knew - one of which was missing, the other of which was known for being crackers and obscure in his information - he was undoubtedly the best choice for questioning.

Harry _had_ also been the cause of the chill in the Gryffindor dorm, as Neville had felt to be the case. There had also been two other occasions when something similar had happened; after Madame Pomfrey's attack, and on the way to Potions. Cold air had poured off of Harry when he had apparently 'seen' the Ravenclaw, who Blaise had informed him was known for going way over the top on dates. According to Blaise, Ben Sriften made Madame Pomfrey look like the rank amateur she was. Several of his dates, _male_ dates, had made noises of being abused, but - money had exchanged hands, no real harm had been caused - and the incidents were forgotten.

Linking those pieces of information to what Draco had discovered about the secret tunnel passages, that even the Weasley twins had been unaware of, it didn't take much thinking to figure out the Ravenclaw had triggered the first 'attack of the chills' - that Draco was aware of anyway. Still, his powers had helped, rearranging the memories - out of chronological order, and placing relevant events side by side, where Draco could examine them.

The timing of Harry's loss of sight was somewhat unusual. The day after Draco had called a meeting, to which Neville had almost certainly been followed, resulting in a huge delay in the plans Draco had just laid down.

"Neville, I want you to go find Pansy - send her to Severus. Hopefully, if she employs her skills appropriately, we'll be able to find out what Dumbledore is hiding from us. I'll search for Harry, and put out the word to the others." Draco made to walk around Neville, but the other boy put out an arm to stop him. Feeling the rare urge to rip somebody's head off, Draco managed to restrain himself based on the unusualness of the feeling.

"What?"

If Neville was taken about by the terse query, he didn't show it, merely waited a moment longer until he was sure Draco was listening to him.

"Are you going against Dumbledore?" Draco froze, the question highlighting something he had forgotten in his haste.

Dumbledore had deliberately left out information, when he had employed Draco's skills for this task, something he knew better than to do. As a result, Dumbledore only resorted to skipping details, if he thought it necessary, and event then only rarely. If he had done so for this case, then by retrieving the information anyway, Draco's actions could be interpreted as a breakaway from the Order of the Phoenix, which he had chosen to aid in this battle. The repercussions of the act could be very serious, particularly if the enemies found out about it, and saw it as a sign of weakness.

But even worse than that thought, was the fact that Draco had _forgotten_ to consider it.

"If necessary, yes. I will not lose such an important player, just to satisfy the old bat's need for mysteriousness. We are to attempt to remain their allies, but if that gets in the way of accomplishing our tasks…the tasks take precedence."

Brushing past Neville, Draco headed out to start the search, thus missing the small smile that curled the boy's lips when he heard Draco's answer.

"Looks like Hermione was right, again. She's going to be unbearable after this."

Dean and Seamus had long since departed for class, dragging Ron with them once they were satisfied Draco wasn't going to harm Neville in any way. Turning to face the rest of the dorm, Neville shook his head in amusement, before picking up his bag and heading for class himself. If he hurried, he'd _just_ manage to slip the word to Pansy and the others.

Chapter 19 : Sometimes sight's not all you need - part eight

Three fucking hours! Three fucking, stupid, bloody hours! And still no sign of Harry. Honestly, how far could a blind boy go? Sure, he had been missing all night as well as all morning, but still…

Running a hand roughly through his hair, Draco ignored the shocked looks on the faces of the other students making their way to their lessons, and continued back towards the Gryffindor tower. Yes, the prince of Slytherin was allowing himself to look rumpled for once, whoopeedoo! There had to be a clue in the dorms, something Draco had missed before…

Furiously berating himself for not checking the place over with his powers earlier, for fear of discovery, Draco prayed his oversight wouldn't cost Harry his health in some way.

Robes flapping, Draco stormed into the common room, the portrait taking one look at his face and forgoing asking for the password. Empty. Good, he'd be able to get it over with quicker.

Spelling the portrait shut, so it wouldn't open even if someone used 'Alohomora' on it, Draco then put up a blocking spell, so that no-one could enter the common room from any other entry point.

Moving over to the centre of the common room, Draco shook his arms lightly, loosening up as he prepared to reach for the well of power within him. The whole thing would be a waste if he was too worked up to access the power, let alone put it to use.

Taking a deep breath, Draco raised his arms, eyes closed as a look of concentration covered his face.

A whirling warmth darted and hid around his body. Chasing it carefully, Draco waited for it to calm, accepting his approach as he moved closer. Reaching the warmth, Draco felt the usual tingle using his powers produced, his gaze turning golden underneath his lids as he channelled the powers through himself.

Before the power had even faded to a glow, Draco was opening his eyes, surveying his work.

Everything was covered in a golden sparkle, from the rug on the floor, to the stones on the ceiling. The trail of sparkles outlined all of the items vividly. The outline of a pen hidden behind a couch shined brightly enough to be seen through the couch itself. The hidden tunnel in the walls was visible as well, glowing through the thick stone, and proving Draco was as thorough as ever in his work.

Draco made his way across the room, the sparkles dimming behind him, until they had faded completely, as his focus moved the shining colour forward in sync with his movements. He reached the first step leading towards the boy's dorms, and the gold flooded forwards eagerly, brightening the dim passage and lighting up all the hidden nooks and crannies.

Draco did a sweep of all of the boy's dorms, and found them clean, although why Weasley had such a big stock of wizard condoms was anybody's guess. It wasn't like he needed them, after all.

Moving on to the bathroom, Draco paused in the doorway, watching as the light spread slowly, almost reluctantly, forward.

Soon the sinks were outlined in the glitter of Draco's power, then the pipes and mirrors, then the showers and stalls. Strangely enough, the light paused there, hovering almost, as though undecided whether to continue or not.

Frowning, Draco was about to step forward when he sensed something, right on the edge of his awareness. Focusing, Draco let the glow ebb in strength momentarily, sending his attention elsewhere. Instantly, he found himself inundated with temperatures. One minute boiling hot, the next minute freezing his ass off. The pipes were groaning in protest at the treatment, icicles hanging off them in some areas, steam rising from them in others.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Draco glanced at the area behind the stalls with mild apprehension. No wonder his powers were feeling a bit cautious. The kind of magic to cause this reaction…and so obviously unstable, uncontrolled…

Making up his mind, Draco released his golden magic, feeling it slide back beneath the surface eagerly, taking the sparkles with it. The bathroom instantly seemed dimmer, even when Draco flicked the lights on. The back of the room being the exception, as a strange light seemed to flicker over the tops of the stalls.

Moving forwards a step, Draco cautiously waited for any kind of acknowledgement of his presence, or a change in the power ahead of him. When nothing happened, he began moving forwards more confidently, pausing after every step just in case that should change.

Reaching the end of the stalls, he hesitated, torn between finding out what was hidden behind the showers, and the caution his instincts were flooding his system with. Eventually Draco's need to find Harry overrode his sense of caution, and he rounded the corner almost hurriedly, wanting to complete the search as fast as possible.

Sat with his back against the wall, pressed tight into the deepest corner, was Harry, knees drawn up to his chest in an unconscious gesture of defensiveness.

That wasn't what made Draco pull up short though, and it definitely wasn't what violently tore a gasp from his throat. No, it was more than a vulnerable Harry Potter, or such an obvious hiding place, that shocked Draco into immobility. Rather it was the rippling aura of bright, white light, flickering across the other boy's skin, like the ripples of light created when a sunbeam passes through a glass of water.

Shining more intensely than the first day back, the boy-who-lived was glowing constantly, so brightly he was lighting up the dark corner he had hidden himself in, as though he were one of those light-bulbs that muggles loved so much.

Staggering forward, Draco dropped to his knees beside the other boy, knowing better than to ask if he was all right. Raising a hesitant hand, Draco paused with it directly above Harry's shoulder, feeling the temperatures given off by the boy's skin, like some thick viscous liquid he was trying to push his hand through.

Just as Draco was about to lower his hand and risk the consequences, Harry raised his head from where it rested against his knees.

Glittering green eyes instantly captured Draco's gaze, the only relief in the face of such blinding light. Harry's entire face was thrown into sharp relief, as the light revealed him to Draco's gaze unflinchingly, and Draco looked Harry over. Noting the sheen of sweat that dotted his brow, and the tenseness his features hadn't had the other day, Draco deduced the fact that Harry wasn't meant to be glowing, and whatever he had done to make the glow go away, it needed to be done again.

Shifting slightly, Draco changed the direction of his hand, raising it to gently touch Harry's cheek instead. Reaching through the viscous air slowed the movement of Draco's hand, making it appear to move in almost slow motion towards Harry' cheek.

Expecting to encounter searing heat, or freezing cold, Draco was distantly surprised that nothing out of the ordinary happened when he touched the glowing boy's skin. Eyebrows crinkling with concern, Draco let his mask drop for once, his grey eyes lightening to an almost white colour, and a tinge of gold chasing around the irises, as he let the boy-who-lived see what he never let anyone see, not completely. The real Draco Malfoy.

"Harry, Harry, can you hear me? I need to know you can hear me, okay? Make a sign, or something." Eyelids fluttered closed, and a sigh fell from Harry's lips as he whispered something so softly, Draco almost missed it.

"Draco…"

Taking that as the sign, Draco reached out to the boy, easing an arm between his back and the bathroom wall, trying to shift Harry as gently as he could. Draco had just positioned Harry in his lap, desperately manoeuvring so that he could pick the boy up, and hopefully get him to help in time.

As the skin of Draco's arm brushed against Harry's neck, a strange tingle arced between them, almost like an electric shock.

Suddenly, Harry shifted, a tensing and loosening of muscles that Draco felt through Harry's shirt, which reminded him of a giant cat, limbering up after a long, after-noon nap.

"Harry…?"

Draco's voice sounded wary, even to his own ears, but he was beyond caring about appearances at that point. Harry rubbed his cheek against Draco's chest, a curious feline motion, which matched Draco's earlier impression, as well as the rumbling noise issuing from Harry's chest. The boy was purring.

As soon as Draco realised it, something inside him went curiously still, something which was obviously working a lot faster at figuring things out than he was - not surprising considering he had a gorgeous, elfin boy, perched on his lap, and purring into his chest. Not an everyday occurrence, but not something Draco wanted to miss either.

"You know what you need, don't you? You know what's wrong with you, making you act like this too? I'd wager you know everything, apart from Dumbledore's underhand meddling, and even that you might have a vague idea about."

Tilting his head slightly, Harry lazily lifted his lashes, green eyes peeking out at Draco in a slit, a warm look of longing colouring the eyes darker than normal.

"…I know…what I need…but, I won't take…not again…"

Only grasping vaguely what the murmured words meant, Draco knew what he had to do, and what he wanted to do.

"Don't take then - receive."

For a moment Harry's eyes widened slightly, as though the permission had been enough for him to momentarily rise above whatever was happening to him, then the glint of personality was gone, washed away as the heat returned.

Draco had an instant where he could have turned away, could have taken back his permission. He ignored it. Harry lifted his head higher still, eyes firmly locked on Draco's, as he rose until they were level.

Moving forwards, Draco watched, entranced, as Harry's eyes fluttered shut, breathing lightly on Draco's lips as instant before he touched them with his own. Momentarily forgetting to breath, Draco suffered through that butterfly-light touch, and the spark of hunger it conjured, valiantly employing his iron will to do so.

Meanwhile Harry continued his own slow brand of torture, pressing his lips to Draco's in light kisses, that never lingered long enough for Draco to deepen or reject the touch.

Growing impatient, Draco waited until Harry joined their lips again, then gripped the back of the boy's head with both hands, holding him where he was. Once certain Harry understood that Draco wasn't letting him go again, Draco lapped lightly at the other boy's mouth, demanding his payback.

Harry parted his lips with a sigh, relaxing into Draco's grasp with relief, feeling the strength pour back into him at the first touch of Draco's tongue. A jolt of electricity tore through them, triggering Draco's golden power, which then flooded their systems' with warmth and belonging.

Just as they were running out of oxygen stores, that warm beast, lurking in the back of Harry's subconscious, came to the fore. Gliding through Harry's body, it spread tingles everywhere it went, then passed on to Draco through the liplock they still maintained. The tingles worked their magic, growing in intensity over time, instead of subsiding, until they both came simultaneously, crying out into each other's mouths.

Panting, they finally parted, just enough to lean their foreheads together as they remained sitting on the bathroom floor behind the stalls.

Recovered enough to think more clearly, Draco's gaze shot up and caught Harry's slightly guilty expression. Blinking, Draco realised something that temporarily made him forget the situation he was now in.

"Harry? Your eyesight's come back!"

Looking slightly startled, Harry actually raised a hand to his face, as though expecting to find a pair of glasses perched there. As the knowledge sunk in, Harry sat there for a moment, simply waving his own hand in front of his face, and watching it move with childlike delight.

Grinning to himself over Harry's preoccupation, Draco regained his normal thought processes much too soon, and wiped his face clear, reverting to the milder mask he wore around other members of the circle of light - which was still much warmer than the one he usually showed Harry, and more…suitable, given what they'd just shared.

"Come on, we need to go get cleaned up. I doubt it's worth going to lessons today, given how much we've missed, and I want to get you checked over by Dumbledore. You can wave at yourself on the way, now scootch!"

Harry didn't so much as blink at the slightly teasing tone Draco had adopted to go with his mask, and Draco herded him out of there before he could get obsessed with something else, like the mirrors for example.

As the door swung closed behind the two departing figures, neither one looked back in time to see the poor, abused pipe burst, and water drip down onto the melted tiles upon which they had previously been sitting. A faint glimmer of gold lingered where Draco had sat, which gradually spread with the help of the water, until the whole area was outlined with the sparkles. The twisted, melted tiles, slowly filled up, like a lump of rising dough, until the bathroom tiles had completely filled the golden outline. Having done its job, the gold faded away, leaving no evidence anything had happened, other than the dripping of water from the broken pipe.

Chapter 20 : Welcome to the fold

Harry squirmed as the cold blue tendril of magic slowly moved over his skin. Dumbledore performing the medical examination himself, since Madame Pomfrey was still being treated at St. Mungos. Gritting his teeth, Draco firmly removed his eyes from Harry's naked torso.

"Hmm…" Two pairs of eyes jerked up at the noise, one pair looking expectant, the other looking cynical. "Yes, as suspected. Still, very curious."

Same old Dumbledore. You'd think he'd know better than to test the nerves of male wizarding adolescents, but noo…any time you need to know something, he gives you the information in his own damn time, and in whatever quirky format that takes his fancy.

"What, Headmaster? We knew what was wrong, so why did you need to examine me?" Harry's green eyes briefly flicked in Draco's direction, a flicker of shyness easily visible in their depths.

If Draco weren't presently putting all of his effort into maintaining his mask, he'd be tempted to snort in amusement. Afterall, he and Harry had just done something rather more intimate than taking a shirt off, but the way Harry was acting you'd think nothing had happened. Wait a minute…snorting would fit in with his mask just fine, and provide him some form of relief for the emotions running rampant through him.

"Well, yes, we did know what was wrong before, Harry." Dumbledore quickly jumped in, keeping Harry from acting upon the glare he was presently giving Draco. A promise of retribution for the noise of derision.

"We still didn't know the answer to that rather…pertinent fact associated with your, uh…'illness'. Now, we do. This should make it much easier for you now, as you won't have to get quite so 'ill' again. Plus, since you have…temporarily, cemented, the end of your 'illness', so to speak, you will have an in-built defense from any…unwanted attention."

Draco looked from the overly-twinkling Headmaster, to a cute 'brow-wrinkled-in-confusion' Harry.

Sighing heavily, he mentally berated himself for the chance he was about to willingly abandon. "I can go, you know? If it will make this code thing any easier?"

"Oh, yes, would you Draco? Thanks, that would be a great deal of help. I feel I am managing to get my point across perfectly well, but Harry…doesn't quite have the experience necessary to decode yet, so it seems."

As soon as the door had closed behind the thoroughly disgruntled Draco, Dumbledore offered Harry his shirt back, the blue tendril of magic having been sucked back into Dumbledore's wand.

"Now, Harry, Draco likely won't wait long, so we'll have to make it quick." Harry looked up from dressing, nodding slightly to indicate Dumbledore continue.

"Draco is your mate." Harry accidentally ripped off the button he was trying to do up.

"Given what you two described, and the residue of power clinging to your skin, I can get a pretty accurate idea of what happened. I may have never come across anyone like you before, but from the knowledge people have acquired, the only way to get better from such a major…abstinence, is either an equally major drain, or contact with your mate."

"Since Mr Malfoy was not only able to walk perfectly well, but steadier on his feet than you, I'd have to go with the latter. He is your mate."

"Now, I realise this is a shock for you, I'd be surprised if it wasn't." Harry shut the mouth he'd just opened, as Dumbledore talked past the emerging denials. "However, even if we find out he _isn't_ your mate in the future, and I am in fact wrong. Highly unlikely though that may be. There are still several things you will need to know when dealing with your mate."

"You will be drawn to them, for obvious reasons. Staying away from them for long periods of time will be extremely…uncomfortable, for the both of you. The best I can think to describe it, is as a faint gnawing sensation that will increase in strength the longer you are apart, leading, eventually, to illness."

"The quick fix for that will be to touch him upon seeing him again, obviously. I don't know if it needs to be skin-on-skin, or whether the proximity is what matters. Either way, brushing his hand ought to do, and be inconspicuous enough to not rouse suspicions, if done right."

Here, Dumbledore paused, pinning Harry with a look, as though weighing the boy's ability to be inconspicuous. Brushing off his doubt, Dumbledore reasoned it wouldn't make much difference if people thought Harry fancied Draco anyway, as, with any luck, they would be actual mates, and as such become a couple eventually. Eyes peering into the distance once more, Dumbledore looked at Fawkes as he tried to recall any more pertinent details Harry might need to know.

"I'm not sure how his presence will affect your need to feed, although for now I would continue the casual feeding. Now that I think about it…" Trailing off, Dumbledore looked at Harry with a frown of confusion marring his wrinkled brow.

"Why did you go into such deep hunger anyway? Even if the incident with Madame Pomfrey made you hesitant to deep-feed, you shouldn't have gotten so bad so quickly…"

Raising his bushy eyebrows, Dumbledore turned an expectant look on Harry that made him squirm once more, and this time it wasn't with cold, or with magic. It was with nerves.

"…I'm not really sure..." Chancing a glance up, Harry saw the Headmaster wasn't buying it, so tried to inject a spot of truth into his response. "…I think it might have been tied to my emotions, maybe. I have been on a bit of a rollercoaster lately…"

"Hmm…yes, I suppose that could account for the faster reaction. The proximity to your mate probably unconsciously added to the strain, but that should disappear now that you have 'joined', so to speak. Although," Here Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled extra brightly, "I must risk getting a bit personal here, and say that, at the moment, that 'joining' or 'bonding' if you will, is only temporary. A, reprieve, if you will, which will need to be replaced with a permanent 'bond' sometime in the future. One which will, be, ah, caused by a…physical joining…so to speak."

For a moment Harry just stared at the Headmaster, wondering what was so personal about that. What was he talking about anyway; joining hands? Or kissing again? Or…Oh!

Red spread across Harry's face with the speed of a raging fire, and feeling just as hot. Right then the door to Dumbledore's office was yanked open, and an irate Draco poked his head around the corner. Right when Harry least wanted to see him, or be seen _by_ him.

Either the colour of Harry's face wasn't all that bad, or else Draco was deliberately ignoring the blush, since he didn't even blink when his eyes absorbed the scene in front of him.

"Headmaster, I need to talk to you about something later, but right now, if you're finished, there's something I need to show Harry. Would you mind…?"

Dumbledore looked up at the blond boy, and something in his blue gaze told Draco the old man knew exactly what he wanted to talk to him about. He probably knew exactly what Draco wanted to 'show' Harry as well, and was unlikely to let him do so without his consent. Still, Draco wasn't worried. What better way to hammer in the fact that he was through with consulting Dumbledore on everything, than by executing a plan, with or without approval?

"Certainly. You know where to find me, as always."

Nodding curtly, Draco gestured for Harry to walk out before him, wanting to guard the boy's back from this powerful, crazy, fruit-loop of a wizard. Draco's analytical mind absently noted the fact that Harry's shirt was missing a vital button, causing it to gape open, flashing Harry's body from his abdomen to the top of his jeans. Keeping his back to the exit, Draco began to edge out of the office after Harry, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Oh, and Draco, before you rush off. I think it's good to see you getting to know Harry. Developing attachments with him, and, maybe, even introducing him to your 'friends'." For a moment, Draco just stared at the man he occasionally thought of as an ally, then nodded his acceptance and thanks for what amounted to the man's 'blessing' of his plan.

"I look forward to our meeting later."

Closing the door with a firm tug, Draco finally turned around, shaking his head at the man's political manoeuvring. It was almost good enough to make him an honorary Malfoy, and there weren't too many of those around. Giving his 'blessing' of Draco's plans, when he knew that he had just been cordially invited to a 'meeting' in which Draco was going to re-affirm the boundaries of their working relationship.

No more checking his every move with Dumbledore first. No more excessive compromise, at Dumbledore's orders. The two groups were not one and the same. Dumbledore might run one, but Draco was in charge of the other, and it was high time the old man realised how much leeway Draco had been granting him. Not to mention the level of corruption running riot in the ranks of his, supposedly 'perfect', Order of the Phoenix.

Still, the analyst in Draco had to stand back and admire the man's work. He'd probably known about the leeway being granted him from the start, and decided to use it to his advantage before his free-pass ticket expired. Upon its present expiration, the man had practically performed a somersault, turning from 'difficult' to fully 'co-operative', or at the least, 'approving' of Draco's actions, in the blink of an eye.

Although galling to realise the old-coot, though quite insane, was able to outthink him, Draco was glad to know Dumbledore realised how important the Circle of Light was to his efforts in stopping Voldemort. It would make working together and negotiations a lot easier, in the long run.

Spotting Harry already halfway down the corridor, Draco took off after him, cursing at the boy's lack of sense. Anything could happen to him on his own, even if he _did_ happen to have his sight back!

Hurriedly rounding the corner he had last seen Harry at, Draco found himself brought to a very abrupt halt. Pressed up against his front, Draco found himself face to face with an equally surprised Harry.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, both pairs of eyes wide, and both far too aware of the points at which their bodies touched.

"Umm…I was going to show you something, wasn't I…?" Harry looked at Draco then, really looked at him. Green eyes took in the dilated pupils and the dazed expression, and immediately leapt to the wrong conclusion.

Granted, Harry had been too blind to 'see' the way the other students looked at him during the past couple of days, but he had seen the teachers watching him before the students arrived. All had worn the same stunned, half-eager expression Draco was now sporting.

Maybe Dumbledore _had_ been wrong for once. Maybe Draco wasn't his mate, and all these…feelings, were a side-effect from the feeding. What if the mild feeding had resulted in a backlash, causing Harry to feel something akin to what Madame Pomfrey had felt? That would mean both he and Draco were caught up in the same, though, undoubtedly, diluted 'addiction' that had gripped the nurse. In which case, it would be wisest for Harry to leave Draco alone from now on, and pray the addiction was mild enough to wear off on its own.

So, if he was really as resolved as all that, why was he letting Draco pull him along by his hand, as he went to show Harry something? Answer; no clue. But, for some reason, Harry felt he could trust Draco. He didn't get the same feelings of 'wrongness' he had gotten from the person who had crept into his dorm room two nights ago. In fact, if he squinted slightly, he swore he could see a familiar white light vaguely encompassing Draco's body. Harry blinked, and the colour disappeared. Shaking his head slightly, he returned his attention to following the other boy, finding himself eager to see what Draco wanted to show him.

After the first four turnings, Harry found he was completely lost. Having always assumed he was one of those people who knew his way around the school like the back of his hand, to realise that he didn't recognise the hall Draco was currently tugging him down was somewhat…unnerving. Following closely on the heels of that thought, came several more. Wherever he now was, why hadn't it been included on the Marauders Map? And, how come Fred and George had never mentioned the area?

Paying a lot more attention to his surroundings, and a lot less to the feel of Draco's hand wrapped firmly round his own, Harry took in the hallway he was currently walking down, trying to pinpoint how he knew he'd never been there before. Cold stone made up the walls, with the same large tiles covering the floor as in all the corridors at Hogwarts. Candles flickered in sconces, sending dancing shadows up and down the walls. They were evidently somewhere near the basement, that, Harry could tell by his vague recollection of directions. There was no chill breeze here though, no smell of damp, or mustiness. Overall, it felt very…clean. No dust, no cobwebs, no ghosts, no…noise. Just one long corridor, stretching out into the darkness ahead and behind.

Hang on a sec! Where was the doorway he and Draco had entered from? They hadn't been in the corridor for very long, yet there was no sign of where they'd entered, nor were there any doors lining the walls. Now that Harry was actively looking, he realised the whole place had a feeling of disuse, yet it was so clean it must have regular visitors of some sort. And there was no sound. No ghosts, no voices murmuring in the distance, no feet tapping in the corridor with them. No feet tapping at all.

Looking down in shock, Harry watched as the floor disappeared beneath his feet. Disintegrating into a grey mist, the floor drifted up around Draco and Harry. Then the walls started turning to mist, and the candles, all drifting slowly upwards. Feeling as though he should be falling, to match the corridor's rise, Harry was surprised to find he remained where he was. The corridor drifted away, yet Harry remained standing in the same place in the corridor. Except...there was no corridor, not now.

Turning to look at Draco, Harry was surprised to see the other boy looking at him with a slight smile adorning his face. Yet, no panic flickered through the boy-who-lived. There was no malevolence in that look, only quiet amusement and…resigned surprise?

A rushing noise filled the void Harry was currently in, and that chill wind that had been previously missing, rushed in to fill the space. As the wind whipped his gaping shirt open, Harry looked over at Draco again, only to find him rising like the corridor had. Turning to mist, the colours that used to make up the other boy faded, replaced by a glowing white light, which slowly rose in the same direction the corridor had gone.

Left alone in the vortex, Harry struggled to hold his hair out of his face, and find an escape route, or something…

Shining caught his eye, and he looked down at his feet. Coming up from beneath him, and rising fast, thousands of colours rose to greet him. Greens, blues, oranges, golds, browns, reds, violets, yellows, greys, blacks. Every colour imaginable, coming closer to Harry almost faster than he could see, looking like a smudge of colour in the distance, but getting bigger by the second.

Scarily reminiscent of his nightmare from a few days ago. Green eyes lifted once more, frantically looking for somewhere to hide. He didn't know what those things were, but he didn't want to be in the middle when they got there. Instead of escape, there was nothing but inky blackness above. A rainbow of colours below, a void above, and Harry Potter in-between. Not your everyday occurrence.

The colours finally reached Harry, brushing against him, winding around him, tingling against him like Dumbledore's magic had. Harry only had time to think 'this isn't so bad', then bright white light exploded around him.

Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapters twentyone to end

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Harry Potter, and I don't claim to, so don't sue me!

Pairing: H/D (I love them together)

Plot: What if it isn't Draco who's the veela, but Harry? And what if Draco isn't the mean bastard he's portrayed in the books/films, but rather leader of his own resistance group? - one out of many resistance groups. Then add underhand dealings, secrets, kidnappings, and romance…stir, and see what you get!

****

Entire second half of story – Reworked and completed!

Chapter 21 : Mysteries unravelling

"I'm worried."

Looking down at the blonde head resting against his chest, Ron frowned at the lost quality Pansy's normally-confident voice had taken on.

"You guys have taken on these kinds of problems before and managed - why are you so nervous about this time?"

Wry blue eyes lifted to meet his serious expression, and Pansy seemed mildly surprised by the total confidence he had in her abilities.

"I know, rationally, that we can probably handle the situation - but that's ignoring all of the interfering factors we have. The Order of the Phoenix are being mysterious, withholding vital information. We haven't been able to pinpoint all of the enemies at Hogwarts yet - and this situation…" Sighing, Pansy shook her head before wearily resting it on Ron's chest again.

"We've never had to deal with a maturing half-veela before."

Absorbing her doubts, Ron comfortingly rubbed her arm, letting her know he was there to help.

After their initial 'meeting' in the library, Ron had been delighted by how easy it was to get close to Pansy. Gaining her interest had been the first step, and once they'd done some speed bonding - afterall they had to work to a time schedule - Ron had decided it was time to reveal his own allegiances.

Distrustful at first, Pansy was smart enough to see the benefit of liasing with one another - as Ron had suspected she would be - and it was amazing how quickly they had got used to searching each other out for information updates and opinions on things.

Discovering from Snape, with the help of Pansy, that Harry was part-veela, it hadn't taken much research to discover how Harry's 'condition' could be triggered. And from there it was mere, yet accurate, guess-work that Draco Malfoy was Harry's 'mate'.

Keeping an alert eye on the spaces between bookshelves, Ron gave the blonde-Slytherin the time she needed to regroup, weighing the pros and cons of the latest information himself.

After finding Harry, Draco had rushed off a hasty coded note to spread the news, not only of the 'boy-wonder's' returned sight, but also of his imminent introduction to the Circle of Light - before bundling the green-eyed veela off to see Dumbledore for a medical check.

So quick had Draco been that Pansy had been unable to get word to him about the nature of Harry's 'condition'. Settling for spreading it throughout the ranks of the Circle members', she had then sought out the counsel of Ron on the matter.

"Supposing we're right in our assumption that Draco is Harry's mate - something all the evidence points to - then the next step is to make them realise it."

Murmuring his thoughts aloud, Ron felt Pansy's restless movement and knew she was carefully considering his words. She'd learnt very quickly that Ron Weasley tended to be right when it came to planning throws of the dice.

"We can't just go up to Draco and blurt it out though - same with Harry, although I'd hazard a guess that Dumbledore has already done exactly that. Incompetent idiot that he is. You need to talk to Hermione about this; not only is she close enough to Harry that he might just confide in her about his changes, she's also smart enough to notice things others might miss - and by being Draco's right hand, she can work to nudge the two of them together…"

"Hmm," Moving so she was standing next to Ron, no longer leaning on him, Pansy tilted her head so she could see his shaded blue eyes clearer. "What did you just realise?"

Seeing the purple haze beginning to swirl through her sky-blue eyes, Ron recognised her subconscious use of personal power - that of hypnosis - but didn't hold it against her as he knew how instinctive it must be.

"The players are positioned perfectly for an attack."

Quickly shrugging off her disconcertion, Pansy made the switch from girlfriend to spy instantaneously; narrowed eyes showing Ron he had her complete attention.

"Everybody is caught up in different issues right now. Harry is with Draco, and they should be perfectly safe where they are. Hermione is always far too sharp to get caught out. You're with me. Blaise and Neville however, are caught up enough in each other that they'd make perfect targets right now,"

"If I was planning to harm one from your group, it would be Neville. He's good, but right now he's distracted by the change in his and Blaise's relationship, and out of the two of them he's the least skilled combat-wise."

Giving his analysis in an even, emotionless tone, it wasn't until Ron had finished that his emotions kicked back in and he realised what he'd just said. Neville was likely being kidnapped or worse, as he spoke!

Unable to do anything, Pansy stared at him mutely, blue eyes pleading with him to change his verdict.

A moment later she snapped out of her strange paralysis, and ran for the library door.

"You contact your superiors' - I'm going to gather the Circle!"

Chapter 22 : All the things in my head

Falling to the cold stone with a bone-jarring thud, Harry remained there a moment, wearily resting his pounding head on the floor, ignoring any dirt in favour of the healing cold proffered. No groans of pain issued from the prone figure, nor were there any signs of further movement.

A gentle hand cautiously rested on Harry's back, a soft, "Are you okay?" accompanying it.

Strangely enough, whilst Harry craved the soothing cold of the stones, the warmth emanating from Draco's hand also served to chase away the pounding that was currently turning his brains to mush. Harry lay a moment longer before acknowledging that he didn't actually feel _physically_ ill, it was more the fact that he'd just been overloaded with information. Pushing himself to his feet a moment later, Harry wobbled slightly as he tried to process all that he had seen and heard, _whilst_ maintaining his balance at the same time.

Understanding some of what Harry was going through, Draco guided the boy over to some stone steps, urging him to sit and reacclimatize himself before trying to move again.

"Circle of light, huh? Nice name, although it was more like a hurricane than a circle from where I was standing."

A startled laugh fell from Draco's lips, and he shook his head in amazement. Trust the boy-who-lived to react to the Acceptance like that. Firstly, it occurs faster than ever recorded, and secondly the boy treats it with such a blasé attitude; you'd think he'd just been told all frogs were green, rather than had some miraculous truth laid bare to him.

"It's traditional," Studying Harry, Draco noticed he was looking quite drawn and sombre, despite the joking. "Do you want to talk about what you saw? People find it helps them understand things better when they confide in another member of the circle."

Harry's eyes glazed over, moving as though they were trying to track something Draco couldn't see. "I saw…Death."

Standing up abruptly, Harry turned a level look on Draco, green eyes suddenly brighter than the Slytherin could remember them ever being. "You're right, that did make it easier to understand."

Half reaching out a hand to the other boy when he turned, giving Draco his back, Draco wondered why his heart was clenching in his chest. Leaving that unwanted puzzle for the moment, he tried to assimilate Harry's reaction with other members when encountering the truth shown by the circle of light. Draco was unable to find anything similar.

All members experienced different things, which linked in with their individual personalities and powers. The light showed them things they would normally have picked up eventually, but magnified by infinity.

As keeper of the Light, only Draco could escort others to the Light itself. However, the Corridors' which the Light protected were open to any members of the Circle, and they could be opened up to anyone who needed a santuary - but the Light only embraced someone once. The Light had the ability to choose whether or not to embrace those brought forth, and this depended on whether or not they were, to put it bluntly, 'good' guys or not. Those who were 'good' had to go on alone and see what was theirs to see, but afterwards they could choose whether or not to share that truth with others. Any 'bad' guys who were brought forward could wander in the Corridors forever, and still not find the entrance. Only those who brought them to the Corridors in the first place could bring them back out again, if they wanted to.

Harry's reaction hinted that he had seen something of great magnitude, either for himself or for everyone. The abrupt changes in his emotions though; one minute drawn, the next dryly sarcastic - didn't fit in with Harry's personality, which should have remained unchanged by what he saw.

If it was indeed 'Death' Harry saw, that would fit in with his being drawn, as that is a sad thing. Yet, for whatever reason, he didn't seem to want to share the burden and instead turned away from Draco as though he were angry about something. If only he would tell Draco what was wrong…whose death he saw, then he could try and help Harry through it…

Reaching out once more to the boy with his back to him, Draco's fingertips just grazed Harry's shirt, and Harry had started turning back to face Draco, when several things happened at once.

Hermione appeared at the other end of the dungeon corridor, a book smugly tapping against her thigh when she observed the two boys before her. And Pansy came tearing down the other end of the corridor, cheeks flushed with exertion and fright.

Immediately switching into leader-mode, Draco turned to Pansy first, as she was trying to say something through her panting.

"What is it? Calm down, Pansy, breath…that's it, nice and slow. Okay, now tell me?" Leaning against the wall, her blue eyes rested on Draco desperately, as she frantically tried to get her breathing under control.

"They're taking Neville!"

Three voices simultaneously demanded, "What!".

"I said," Her breathing grew more even, but her eyes narrowed at them in annoyance, "They've taken Neville!"

When silence, and an exasperated gesture from Draco to continue, met her pronouncement the second time, Pansy decided it might help to elaborate. "I completed my mission with Severus, and had told the others what I found out, when someone pointed out that now would be the optimum time to take one of us - that one being Neville! So I went to find him, and got everyone else to look as well…but there's no sign of him anywhere!"

"Eventually I went to Dana, and she 'saw' him being led out of Hogwarts, by a group of students, who were met at the door by a black-cloaked man."

Silence again met her, as everyone thought their own thoughts.

As Draco's mind rushed through every possible course of action, Hermione left the planning to the experts, and instead kept looking from Harry to Draco with an idea of her own blooming - related to her new knowledge that Harry was part-veela.

Harry slumped against the wall as he tried to compartmentalise all of the new data floating around in his head. He knew Hermione and Pansy were members of the Circle of Light. Actually, he knew who all the members of the Circle of Light were, _and_ their abilities. Like he knew Dana was a member, gifted with the ability to track people's position, both in the past and in the present. Unfortunately, she was only able to do so if she was actively trying to, which meant - if any privacy was going to be afforded to people - she only did it when requested.

Harry had also been gifted with the knowledge of Draco's withdrawal, which he'd been too preoccupied before to truly notice. Now, that had stung. Granted, he and Draco had been enemies up 'til…well, they weren't anymore, in any case. And even if their 'hatred' had been a ploy to keep the bad guys from thinking they were working together, like the Light had suggested, it was still no surprise that they didn't know each other all that well. They had, in theory, only truly met when Harry and Draco had…erm, you know…And even after sharing _that_ Draco didn't trust Harry enough to open up to him even slightly…!

It's not like Harry had actually bought into what Dumbledore was saying about Draco being his mate, and all that 'perfect love' crap, but still…it had been nice to dream, if only for a short time, that there really was someone who loved him for himself, and not for his 'fame'.

Aside from the depressing thought that Draco was still hiding, the Light had been very helpful concerning Harry's new talents - which it apparently thought were distantly related to the powers its other members had access to - and as such it had literally filled Harry with knowledge about the things he was now able to do.

"Right, Hermione, go and assemble a team for search and extraction. Pansy you go and get Dana to locate him now, me and Harry will head out and start canvassing the immediate vicinity." Tuning into the fact that Draco had come up with a plan, Harry managed to catch the end of his orders, and tried to brush aside the pang he felt when he heard Draco call him by his given name, as opposed to 'Potter'. Sure, he had been doing it a lot lately, but it still gave Harry a warm feeling, which now translated into a pang, thanks to Dumbledore, the Light and Draco's reaction to their intimacy!

Splitting up quickly, Pansy darted back the way she'd come - determined to fill Ron in as well as reach Dana - and Hermione quickly flipped open the book she was carrying, the pink glow of her personal power latching on to the object and sending a message through it to all the Circle members near a book at the time. That done, Hermione headed for the owlry to send off a message to the remaining members.

The jog to the entrance was quiet for Harry and Draco - the majority of students already in bed, or else gathered in their common rooms. The day had passed in a blur for Harry, entering the Light nearing lunchtime, then staying there for most of the day. Yet, for what Harry had seen, it felt like he should have been there a lot longer.

Easing the front door open silently, Draco guarded Harry's back as he slipped out, then followed after him.

Harry lightly leapt down the front steps, then turned and waited for him to catch up. Once Draco had pulled the door shut again though, he remained standing at the top of the stairs. It was on the tip of Harry's tongue to ask what he was waiting for, but the noise answered the question for him.

To begin with all that could be heard was the wind rushing through the grass and trees, but that gradually changed. Whispers of sound slid amongst the wind, the rustling of clothes, and the sliding of skin. The natural noises of the night slowly filtered out, leaving sinuous secrets whispering into the silence, and careful rushes into danger.

Harry turned in a slow circle, heightened senses spreading out to encompass the area. With his new eyesight colours rose out of the darkness, like flares - marking where people were. A clump of trees vanished from Harry's view, a long, blue shape slinking towards them appearing in its place.

One by one, members of the Circle who had been contacted appeared by the front steps. A lion reared up on its haunches - a third year Hufflepuff appearing in its place. A ripple ran through the stone steps, forming a bump in the concrete, which then grew and grew, until another student stepped out of it, straightening their robes as they did so.

The regular night-time noises rose up again, as the circle of figures converged on the steps. Turning back to face Draco, Harry allowed himself to soak in the sight of the blond Slytherin, commanding the circle's attention with the ease of long practise. Draco's orders were simple; find Neville, retrieve him…subdue any and all who got in the way.

Pansy ran up as they were about to move out, red-faced and panting, but with an excited grin on her pretty face. A pleasant-faced brunette followed closely after her, and immediately gasped out that Neville was due east in the Forbidden Forest.

Ron was following behind, slightly more cautiously, blue eyes taking in the gathering with a carefully-neutral face. The sight made Harry pause, which in turn stopped Draco from issuing the order to move.

Pansy's grin faded slightly, at the look Draco directed at her, but she remained unrepentant.

"It's okay - he's a member of the Cotsden secret society, and you know that this kind of thing falls right down their alley. To summarise; he wasn't allowed to approach the Circle directly until now, but the recent events mean the society has given him clearance to act on his own initiative and help us as he sees fit."

Eyeing her in stunned amusement, Draco obviously didn't know what to think. It was clear Pansy truly believe what she was saying, but the Cotsden society was extremely secretive, and so underground that everyone thought it had disbanded long ago. To be told it was still very much active was hard enough to take in - but that Ron Weasley was a member…possibly a prominent member as well, given the amount of trust they'd put in his hands…well, let's just say Draco definitely wasn't that trusting.

"…What proof does he have?"

Glaring at her leader, Pansy glanced sideways to see how Ron was handling the mistrust, and was unsurprised by the even look he returned to her. Evidently his planning had taken into account this reaction.

"He told me whilst under my mesmer. When he approached me and offered to help the Circle, of course I didn't trust him immediately - so I put him way under, and you know nobody can lie when I'm 'persuading' them. He was originally told to connect with a one of us and offer help - and it was Ron who told me about Neville being taken."

A nudge from Harry made him take in the hands planted on hips, and the stubborn expression on her face. Draco capitulated. "Fine - we'll accept his help for now, but after this is over we're going to have a proper talk,"

"You can wait here for Hermione and the others to arrive; Ron, join the rest."

Ron hastily covered his laugh up by coughing, gratefully moving towards the other members of the Circle when Pansy turned her baleful stare his way.

Following Draco's suggestion that they all spread out to make it less likely they were spotted prematurely, Harry hung back slightly from the group. Once certain nobody was watching him, Harry turned to the grainy tree trunk on his right.

One hand lightly traced the gnarled bark, then a sudden warmth pulsated from his palm - partially merging his hand with the tree. Taking a moment to appreciate the new control he had over his powers, thanks to the Light, Harry quickly leapt into the tree.

Following the dark trail of people moving beneath him, like a series of trickles spreading out beneath his feet, Harry launched himself towards the next tree branch. Lightly landing on the balls of his feet, he again checked that he hadn't made any noise - unwilling to be caught and raise unwanted questions - before continuing on his way, picking up speed as his body caught onto a certain rhythm.

Nearing a large clearing the members of the Circle slowed down - cautious of the lack of cover.

The closer they got however, the more the magically sensitive ones in the group were able to feel a strong power gathering. Their unease quickly filtrated through the rest of the Circle, and they flexed their own powers in preparation of danger.

Sliding out from the trees to encircle the gathering of Death Eater's, a few of the shifter's had already slipped their human form, and many others were holding glowing balls of power - a murderous Blaise in particular.

At Draco's signal, they all poured into the clearing from every direction, the guards being the first to be disposed of. A group headed straight for Neville, who was bound and gagged on a large boulder in the centre of the clearing, and the rest sought to deal with the other wizards in the area.

A Death Eater shot a blaze of fire at Draco, forcing the boy to duck and roll. Motioning sharply with his hand, a trail of gold sparks whipped towards the hooded man, striking at the face. Twisting out of the way just in time to avoid disfiguring his face, the man was unable however to save his hood from the energy. The black material was forced back, revealing a long flowing mane of silvery blond hair, identical to that of his opponent.

"Dad!"

A sadistic smirk twisted the other man's face, rendering him too cruel-looking to be considered beautiful.

"Yes my darling son, I lied when I told you I wasn't a Death Eater. Ironic, isn't it, since it appears you have lied about something as well, now, haven't you? Afterall, who was it that told me they weren't a freak?"

Draco winced at the cruel comment, his concentration faltering as he struggled to maintain his mask. Seeing the opening for what it was, Lucius pointed his wand at his only son, muttering "Bloodcut," under his breath.

Harry's sensitive ears picked out the slight sound from the other noises of battle, pausing in his movements to perch on top of a recently bloodied Death Eater. Letting his red-stained hands lie on the cloaked-man's motionless chest, Harry lifted his green eyes in time to see an arc of blood spurt from Draco's chest. The curse didn't stop there though. Only after seven more arcs of blood were torn from the now kneeling Draco did it then stop.

Rising up on one leg, Harry was unable to tear his eyes from the bleeding figure lying on the forest floor. The sound of confident footsteps approaching the supine figure eventually drew his attention, and Harry's narrowed green eyes watched as the elder Malfoy pointed his wand to finish off his son.

"Aveda Ke…"

Cut off mid-curse, Lucius Malfoy watched in astonishment as his wand went hurtling off to the right. "What the…?"

A fist to his jaw cut off the question, swiftly followed by a blow to the stomach. Winded, he bent over, disbelieving that someone was getting the better of _him_.

As the man righted himself, Harry darted back in, a roundhouse kick to the groin viciously gaining a scream before he went down again. Dancing back a few steps on the balls of his feet, Harry waited until the man looked up again. Waited until the man saw his opponent's eerie green eyes.

Clenching his right fist tightly, Harry visualised his hand going right through Lucius Malfoy's head and coming out the other side with bits of brain and shattered skull sticking to it. Holding onto the thought of the satisfaction such a sight would bring him, the boy-who-lived channelled all of his territorial rage into his next swing, sending the other man smashing into the ground.

Leaving the trash unconscious among the crushed pine needles, Harry hurried over to Draco's side. Carefully flipping the boy onto his back, Harry winced at the eight horizontal cuts covering his front, running from one arm, across his chest, to the other arm.

Watching a trickle of blood seep from one of the deeper cuts, Harry suddenly realised he was kneeling in a pool of Draco's blood. Casting several hasty sealing charms, Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding when he saw the bleeding stop, at least temporarily.

Just as Harry was beginning to feel relief, an evil chuckle sounded from behind him.

"So…Mr Potter, you managed to take care of my loyal Lucius. Now, I believe it is my turn to take 'care' of you."

As far as two-liners went, Harry had heard better. Sure, the better ones had come from this same man, but for some reason Harry was no longer as scared as he had been in the past. In fact, he felt almost…lazy.

A smug grin slowly appeared on Harry's face, as he rose from Draco's side and turned so he was half facing Voldemort.

Peering at the 'evil wannabe-Lord' from underneath lowered eyelashes, Harry embraced the animalistic side of himself. It was a different Harry who turned the rest of the way around. It was a dangerous Harry who took a step towards Tom Riddle.

But it was a pure animal that leapt the rest of the way - slamming into the body before it could so much as raise its wand, then lowering its head and…sucking at the very air above the body. A quiver travelled through the stunned man's frame, then another, and another. Eventually the body was wracked by great shudders, each one occurring faster and faster, as the pitiful man who used to be the feared Lord Voldemort screamed out in pain. The screams gradually died down to pained whimpers, as the man had trouble drawing in the breaths needed to create noise. And even they stopped after a while.

Finally lifting his delicate face, Harry tilted his head to the night sky - eyes closed, pale skin glowing and silvery scar glinting: basking in the rush of power procured from the violent feeding.

Verdant eyes slid open, and he gradually became aware of the sensation of eyes on his skin. Not lustful or hateful - like all the stares had been recently - these felt stunned, and the oddity of that was enough to make Harry take a look around him.

From his position on top of what appeared to be a shrivelled bag of bones, Harry could see Draco lying still in the dark pool of his own blood - but the person who'd inflicted the damage was long gone, having woken up and slipped away whilst Harry was otherwise occupied.

Looking back at the silent members of the Circle - the recovered Neville being cradled by a stunned Blaise, and the bloody-faced Ron - Harry waited to feel shock or horror at what he'd apparently done to the Dark Lord. Yet all he felt was a quietly warm sense of satisfaction, as the beast within him curled up to sleep - content from such a big feeding.

Unable to keep himself from doing the same, a suddenly-sleepy Harry slipped off of Voldemort's body, and curled up on the pine floor next to the unconscious Draco - trusting to the Circle to take care of the clean-up he was soon fast asleep.

Chapter 22 : Surprised Council

The murmur of voices rose gradually - so subtly that it was unnoticeable at first, but the end result of everyone talking over each other was inescapable.

Peering down either side of the conference table, Albus Dumbledore truly felt his age. Next to him, Mad Eye Moody was the oldest, but apart from them the members of the Order of the Phoenix were all around human mid-age. Young.

Examining the line of chairs on his right, Albus amended that thought. Compared to the Circle of Light members, those from the Order were positively decrepit.

Made up entirely of Hogwarts students, it was rather ironic that the quietest person in the meeting was the youngest Circle member; Drake Main, a Ravenclaw who wasn't as absorbed with learning as the rest of those in Ravenclaw. That might have had something to do with the fact that his 'talent' was for sensing other people's emotions, and this made him a lot more human in some respects than his knowledge-driven housemates.

Hermione headed up the right side of the table, with Pansy next to her - then Blaise Zabini, Lucy Goldfin and Drake Main. Usually Draco was present, but his current state of unconsciousness meant he'd had to be temporarily replaced by Pansy who was one of his lieutenants, in order for there to be an equal number of people from the Circle and the Order. Not counting Albus himself of course, as he was the one who organised the meetings.

The Order members were currently trying to get the meeting going, by yelling for an explanation as to why it was called, and what the hell had happened.

Bill Weasley occupied the seat mirroring Hermione's, but on the left of the table, and was worriedly asking after Severus, who had been unable to attend due to ill health.

Then came Minerva McGonagal, Severus' temporary replacement, who was exclaiming about the huge usage of magic she'd felt from the direction of the forbidden forest a while ago.

After Minerva came Sophie Darlton, Mad Eye Moody and William Haigh.

Out of the Circle members only Lucy and Pansy were yelling for information; Blaise and Hermione were attempting to get everyone to calm down, whereas Drake was wisely staying out of it entirely.

By comparison, all the Order members were demanding to know something - and appearing like immature, impulsive children.

The role reversal made Albus sad, as it illustrated just how big an impact the war and their different abilities had already effected the Circle children.

Albus' mind began to wander down the oft-travelled route of whether or not there were any adult members of the Circle - something he had no clue about, but seemed unlikely, given the sheer quantity of members who were at school, and the fact that Draco Malfoy was their leader. Afterall, surely an older leader would be best, if the option were available. Cutting himself short before he began examining all of the oddities about the Circle of Light, Albus stood up from his position at head of the table.

Silence gradually settled around the room, a few last mutters from Mad Eye being ignored by everyone.

Glad to have their attention, and ignoring the slight pang he felt at the sign of trust in him, Albus started to recount the events for the Order members who were unaware of recent happenings.

"This evening, our young Mr Longbottom was kidnapped by Death Eaters. A rescue was orchestrated by Draco Malfoy, leader of the Circle of Light, and Mr Longbottom was successfully retrieved,"

"During the fight, Mr Malfoy was injured by a Death Eater, whom witnesses identified as his father. Luckily, Mr Potter was also present for the rescue mission, and was able to incapacitate Draco's father before Draco was killed. This is when reports get a bit vague."

Tired blue eyes sought out Hermione, catching and lingering on the sheaves of paper she was restlessly straightening on the table. The reports each member of the Circle who'd been present had written, all done neatly and handed in barely two hours after the event itself. More efficient than the Order could ever hope for.

"Whilst young Harry was tending to the Circle's fallen leader, Voldemort made his appearance. When, exactly, he arrived is unclear. What happened next is also unclear. Some state Mr Potter launched himself at the Dark Lord, others' argue a huge animal charged him - still more claim a dark cloud swarmed the man."

"What is clear is the result of this. Voldemort, the Dark Lord, is now dead. All that was left of him was a few crumbling bones."

Immediately gasps issued from the Order members, and stunned expressions covered their faces. All members of the Circle who were present remained unmoved, all having heard it before.

"But, Albus…what does this _mean?_"

The earnestly worried expression on McGonagal's face almost made him smile. Almost.

"Umm, Headmaster? May I respond to this question?"

Jerking his gaze over to the young Hufflepuff, Lucy Goldfin, Albus took in the timidly polite expression on her face which perfectly matched her querying tone of voice - and wondered why he suddenly had a slightly sinking feeling. "Of course, my dear."

Turning a calm blue gaze on the Head of Gryffindor, Lucy's expression soon turned arctic, as she unleashed her disdain on the teacher.

"It _means_ that the bastard is _dead_, and now all we have to worry about are those annoying boot-lickers who call themselves 'Death Eaters'. Oh, and of course, make sure none of them attempt to take control of Voldy's ex-followers in the coming turmoil. That answer your question?"

Shaking her head in disgust, in case the acerbic answer hadn't been clear enough, Lucy hammered in her disbelief that a supposedly intelligent person - who had served the Order of the Phoenix for who-knows how many years - had been incapable of reaching that conclusion themselves. The woman's brainless turn to her leader had also made her blood boil - sure Lucy was loyal to the Circle and Draco, but that didn't mean she suddenly wasn't capable of thinking for herself.

And people thought Hufflepuffs were dim!

Hiding his amusement with difficulty, Albus took in Minerva's flush of embarrassment with a glance, then arched a questioning eyebrow at the frown on William Haigh's normally-cheerful face.

"It seems too easy." William easily responded to the silent question, speckled green eyes taking in how the others would react to his statement.

Ah. He'd wondered how long it would take someone to pick at that. Even with a prophecy indicating one would kill the other, there was still no long, drawn-out battle, as had been expected…rather the killing seemed almost…offhand - happening in a minor skirmish, and very quickly, no-matter that nobody seemed to agree on how it had happened.

"I know. However, I don't believe this was a trick on Voldemort's behalf. Nor do I believe things are truly over. As Miss Goldfin pointed out - at the very least we still have the other Death Eaters to deal with, and preventative measures must also be taken to ensure another Voldemort doesn't appear."

"To share my belief in this…abrupt, turn of events, I think there is something you should all be aware of. This is, as always, strictly confidential - there will be no talking of this to other people, and magic will see to it that nobody, other than those who already know, will hear or overhear anything relating to this that you might say."

"Harry has recently come into his inheritance. Turns out Mr Potter is half veela. With this shift in status, comes a simultaneous shift in magical ability. Is My Potter now capable of taking on the Dark Lord? - yes. I find I have to struggle to imagine something he would have difficulty doing now. Also, the exotic abilities he now has at his disposal would account for the mismatch of accounts we have from the other Circle members; they would never have seen anything like it before, and their different abilities would have meant they'd see it from different perspectives in any case."

"I don't, however, believe that his new abilities will keep him safe from everything. My main reason for this is the fact that he's still acquainting himself with his abilities, and the majority of what he is doing is based on instinct. Another reason is that he had yet to bond with his mate, or even acknowledge that he has a mate - both of which would help him feel more settled, and as such better able to determine his own strengths and weaknesses."

"Since you obviously believe the boy still needs aid, do I take it you wish to root out the remaining Death Eaters as we have been doing before now? With the utmost subtlety, and without informing the public what has been happening?"

Looking over at Sophie, Albus found his eyes met and held by a pair of dark brown ones. Disconcerted, as always, by the odd sensation of being measured which he always felt when he met her gaze, Albus was quick to redirect his stare to a point above her shoulder. Absently noting that with her pale colouring and long black hair, she looked like a muggle goth, Albus thought about her question for a minute.

"Yes, I do believe that to be the best method. Not just to prevent panic in the wizarding community - or premature celebration, such as we had before - but also to keep the Death Eaters in question as unaware as possible that we are still actively trying to track them down and imprison them. Hopefully they will be sufficiently distracted by the death of their leader, but, in case they are not, we don't want them to go deeper into hiding."

Idly tapping a long, tanned finger on the table, Bill Weasley appeared to contemplate what Albus had just said before posing his own question.

"Given your avoidance of what has befallen Severus, I'm going to assume it's nothing dangerous as opposed to embarrassing and temporarily incapacitating. Correct me if I'm wrong." Dumbledore remained silent, so Bill took that as permission to continue.

"In that case, what is Severus going to do - once he's recovered from whatever is wrong? Are you still going to ask him to spy, and if so, on whom? Or are you going to pull him out - on the basis that his Lord is dead, and he isn't interested in taking over the world on his own?"

"In this instance I believe it to be prudent to do nothing immediately. It is my wish to pull Severus out, however, to do so too quickly would raise suspicion on his loyalty amongst the remaining Death Eaters - and until we are sure there won't be a repeat of Voldemort, it would be unwise to generate such an impression. Even if another Dark Lord does rise further down the line, if Severus has made a show of hesitating to abandon his 'cause' at this point in time, that will afford him some protection, and gift us with a possible foothold in that Lord's organisation."

Settling back in his hard wooden chair, the frown on Bill's face showed he wasn't happy, but he was satisfied enough for the time being not to pose anymore questions. His main concern had been addressed, and there was nothing further that could be done on the matter yet. Mentally acknowledging the fact that he'd have to have a word with his lover as soon as possible, Bill Weasley set his brown gaze on the young Slytherin who was currently talking.

"You mentioned something about a mate. If finding his mate will make Harry more powerful, as you insinuated, shouldn't we be attempting to track down this mate?" Moving his gaze from Dumbledore's wizened face, Blaise looked around the room, gaining agreeing nods from everyone.

"I know such a search would be a drain on our resources, but, following the theory that there will be a lull in Death Eater activity due to Voldemort's death, surely the possible gain far outweighs the vulnerability it will place us at."

"Umm, actually," Hermione spoke up hesitantly, pausing to look at Dumbledore before continuing. "As a half veela, Harry could only have transformed in the manner he has if he had already met his mate at least once. Taking that into account, the search for his mate is actually less far-reaching than you might think. In all probability it's someone attending Hogwarts."

"How did you…?" Smiling smugly at the surprised Blaise, Hermione gently patted the small leather book she held in her lap. Drake quietly chuckled.

"Yes, exactly as Miss Granger said. In fact, on the basis of their interactions together, I feel it's safe to say Mr Malfoy is in fact Harry's mate. However, broaching this topic with Mr Potter I garnered a definite denial - even if it turns out the two aren't mates, it would still be prudent for us to encourage Harry's interactions with others, in an attempt to find his actual mate."

Darting a brief look in Hermione's direction after feeling her delight, Drake quickly spoke up. "The Circle will tackle Harry's reluctance in this matter - and search for Harry's mate if it turns out Draco isn't the one."

Albus nodded agreement, and was about to assign the Orders members' new people to watch, when the door to the room burst inwards, and Sirius Black and Shacklebolt raced in, panting.

Jumping out of his seat, William ushered the sweating Kingsley into it, hovering in concern as the other man gratefully collapsed into it. Waving off Bill's offer of his own seat, Sirius marched up to the head of the table where Albus was.

"We've got bad news."

"Wait a s…I thought you were meant to be dead?"

Ignoring Sophie's bemused question for the moment, and deciding to work a way out of answering it later, Albus gestured for Sirius to continue.

"Me and Shacklebolt were shadowing Fudge, as ordered, right? To eavesdrop on his arranged meeting with Voldemort. Well we got there fine - strange, dingy alley, sinister air of gloom - standard op. Then the bastard doesn't turn up for hours - nobody does. So there Fudge is, beginning to sweat over the wait, and me 'n' Shacklebolt are getting mighty suspicious,"

"Anyway, Fudge doesn't dare leave, right, so we stay there as well. Eventually, after about three hours, who shows up but Lucius Malfoy himself! All bruised and limping - nothing at all like he normally looks…"

Gesturing impatiently, Albus impatiently conjured up a glass of water for both men, and Sirius drained his before continuing.

"And Lucius kills him. Just like that - appears out of no-where, big green light, then vanishes again - leaving Fudge, puffed up windbag that he is, lying there with a blank look as his death face."

Message delivered, Sirius topped up his glass, then leaned against the table, sipping it slower now. Finishing his glass with a gasp, Shacklebolt roughly wiped his mouth with his hand and nodded to corroborate with Sirius' telling.

Looking down at his wrinkled hands, Albus pondered this new news grimly.

"Bollocks!"

Bill was the one to say it, and everyone, except Dumbledore, looked at him in astonishment. Not used to such vehemence from the man, or the use of a muggle swear word.

"It's too late - they're already organised. Someone, probably Lucius, has already taken control of the Death Eaters. I wouldn't be surprised if Voldemort had arranged it as a contingency plan - if anything permanent happened to him, Lucius was to take over and carry out his dream. Or, if there was such an option, bring him back again!"

Amid the dismayed voices, Hermione Granger spoke up.

"Yes, and I'd go one worse. By killing the Minister, they've created the very chaos we assumed the Death Eater ranks would be in. In short, we are now at the disadvantage, because we don't truly know what's going on behind the scenes, and we no longer have the ability to predict Voldemort's moves - as Voldemort is no longer in control."

Chapter 23 : Poisonous Chickens?

"I am going to kill that dog!" Remus Lupin fumed, as he stalked down the corridor - doing a passable imitation of Professor Snape, however unintentional it might have been.

Reaching his destination, an uncharacteristically furious Remus marched up to the Headmaster's office and slammed the door open. Ignoring the fact that it had been enlarged into the formal conference room, and that members of both the Circle of Light and the Order of the Phoenix were present, and staring, Remus stormed over to a certain ex-convict - and gave him a sharp rap on the head.

Sirius Black winced at the smack, and employed his best puppy dog look in an attempt to get his friend to calm down. Seeing the amber eyes begin to swirl with black flecks, he realised that tactic wasn't going to work this time. Time to face the music.

"Nice to see you too, Moony. Had a rough day?"

"Yyo…yyou!" For a second Remus just spluttered, and Sirius was very tempted to grin. Luckily he saw the werewolf's eyes begin to narrow again, and squelched the impulse before he could act on it.

Waving his arms and shaking his head like a very pissed off, or just pissed, chicken, Remus began to lecture Sirius. Or so Sirius thought.

"I know you don't like the man, but this is taking things too far Sirius! I don't know what you did, and frankly I don't _care_ - but you've made him seriously ill, and I demand you reverse whatever curse it was, right now!"

Beginning to frown himself, and slightly surprised by the reaction, Sirius wracked his brain for information on the curse, to verify what he already knew. He might be a slacker in some departments, but Sirius Black always made sure he knew his curses inside out.

"You mean it hasn't tapered off yet?"

At the calm question, Remus almost brained the man. Mastermind of pranks he might be, but remorseful, Sirius was not.

"Of course it hasn't tapered off yet - it's only just started!"

"Only just…" Pausing mid sentence, Sirius frowned again, then broke into a broad smile. "It's not mine then. I set my prank off ages ago - just after you came back in fact!"

"What?" Was all a bemused Remus had time to say, before Dumbledore interrupted their reunion with a small cough.

Pulling a chewy toffee from the depths of his robes, and popping it into his mouth, Albus waited until he had the full attention of two of his brightest ex-students.

"Remus, perhaps if you explained what is wrong with the dear man - I presume it is Severus you are talking about, yes? - we may be able to figure out who may have played this trick on him. Afterall, we all know how proud Sirius is of all of his jokes - if it were one of his, I have no doubt he'd own up to it!"

"Yeah, if only to piss Snape off even more…" A snickering Moody elbowed Shacklebolt in the ribs to get him to shut up. Despite that, everybody present heard his comment, and several smiles appeared on the faces of the previously grim members of the Order, although the Circle members remained solemn.

"Well…as you know he was covered in those itchy red spots for ages, and he became a bit more…temperamental than usual, probably because of the spots. Then, a while ago, he started feeling nauseous. Well, a couple of minutes ago he started vomiting - and he has yet to stop!"

"Hmm…Sirius? Can you think of anything?" The Headmaster played with his beard as he mulled the information over, looking at Sirius to see if the symptoms rang a bell.

"Nope. Definitely not one of mine! I can't think who would have done it to be honest - it doesn't sound like any of the styles I know of."

Shrugging the problem off, Sirius' brain moved onto his next problem, now that he was absolved of the crime. If he wasn't getting any more accusations hurled at him, that must mean his plan had worked, and Remus hadn't figured out it was him who'd done the other thing.

"Well, I suggest you get him installed in the infirmary. I'll be along momentarily, given Poppy has yet to return, and Felicity won't be arriving until Poppy does."

"Who's 'Felicity'?"

Flicking a chiding glance at Sirius for his lack of manners, Dumbledore never-the-less answered him. "She's a new medi witch who's coming to help Poppy with her job. As Poppy was recently hospitalised I believe the extra help will do her good."

Evidently deciding that was the most that could be done for now, Remus nodded to the Headmaster and exited the room. But not before darting a brief, sympathetic look over at an unusually-stony Bill.

Accepting the fact that he wasn't going to get an apology from Remus, Sirius couldn't help but start grinning once the door had shut behind the werewolf, who knew him too well for his own good.

Catching sight of the mischievous expression adorning the face of one of his best agents, Dumbledore quickly brought the meeting to a close - leaving Sophie Darlton's question deliberately unanswered - and waited for the last Order member to leave before turning to face the ex-convict, a twinkle of his own appearing in his eyes.

Recognising the evasive tactic for what it was, Sophie's dark eyes briefly sparked with curiosity - a curiosity which was quickly damped when she met the strangely discerning, golden stare of the quietest Circle member; Drake Main.

Eventually his office door slid shut behind the last person. "Well, Sirius, what is it that you _did_ do to Severus?" Pinning a mock-stern look on his face, Albus patiently stared Sirius Black down.

"Chicken pox."

Keeping a straight face, Dumbledore carefully lifted one eyebrow. "Chicken pox? Ah, I see - using muggle problems to confound a wizard. Rather inspired, even for you, don't you think, Sirius?"

Looking down at the floor, Sirius bit his lip - _hard_ - trying to control his chuckles.

"Okay, okay, I admit it - I got the idea from the Weasley twins before I left!"

Letting his laughter run its course, Dumbledore waited 'til the humour had completely left his system, before turning things more serious.

Settling down onto his chair behind his desk, Dumbledore carefully transferred a stack of parchments on the desk top to one of his magically expanding filing cabinets. Gradually recognising the fact that he was either about to get harangued, or told something he wasn't going to like, Sirius flopped down into one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"Albus…?"

"Chicken pox; creates small, itchy, red spots. Annoying, can be soothed by calamine lotion to some extent, and leaves no lasting damage - unless you scratch at the spots, in which case it can scar." Straightening things which didn't need to be straightened; pens, parchment, ink well, Dumbledore ignored his ex-student's questioning expression for the moment.

"I understand you and Severus will likely never get on - I dislike it, but I understand it. I am even capable of finding humour in both of you're antics upon occasion. However, since you've been back from behind the veil - a feat which even I was unsure your…unique powers could handle - you've both been forced to work together, and as such each of your pranks have been carefully constructed so as to avoid handicapping. I find the fact that you deliberately made it so Severus was out of commission with this latest prank, disturbing."

Looking up, Albus pinned Sirius with a pair of blue eyes that seared through him in intensity.

"You are perfectly aware of the fact that we are at an extremely delicate stage in our plans right now. Voldemort is dead now - thanks to Harry - and now is the time to destroy the Death Eater organisation once and for all - although the fact someone has apparently already taken the Dark Lord's place makes this slightly more difficult,"

"Our ties to the Circle of Light are tenuous at best, on the verge of severance at worst - due to the way I in particular have handled their treatment. We can not afford to have even one of our agents out of order, so I want you to tell me what made you do it. Why did you put Severus out of commission? Tell me."

Focusing his gaze onto his lap, Sirius idly tapped his fingers against his thighs. He knew his reasoning was…unreasonable, and he had been perfectly aware of the danger he had placed everyone in due to his prank, but he just couldn't…

"…I couldn't stand the thought of them alone together!"

Anxious, and strangely urgent, dark blue eyes snapped up to meet the Headmaster's gaze head on, and when Albus read the reasoning behind the emotion, he found he'd unwittingly triggered a ticking bomb.

"Ah. I see."

Clearing his throat quietly, Dumbledore fervently wished he'd left the matter, or maybe even turned it over to Minerva. She seemed perfectly capable of handling such a thing, but he himself…? Not so much.

"Well, I can see where you might have gotten worried…but, if you feel that strongly about it, you really should talk to Remus about it. You can't just keep putting Severus out of commission every time you have to go away and leave them here. Alone. Together. Besides! With the amount of trouble we have, they'd never have a chance to do more than work!"

Pretty sure that the heat in his cheeks meant he was blushing, Albus firmly shut his mouth and laced his fingers together. Honestly! Discussing such things with Harry, that's slightly different - for one thing, the poor boy needed to have such things explained to him in light of his new self, but to be having this discussion with a grown adult - who should already know how to handle such matters…!

"I know - I can't put the git out anymore. But, I can't tell Remus! I just can't Albus! Can't you just send him with me on all the trips? That should do the trick, and it's the easiest solution really."

Pinning an earnest gaze on the Headmaster, Sirius tried to pour all of his recent turmoil into his request, feeling he just might burst if he couldn't pin his jester's face back on soon.

Taking in how deadly serious Sirius was being for a change, Albus had to accept the fact that this wasn't an issue he could simply fob off on McGonagal - nor could he let it go the way he had before. As proven by Sirius' recent actions, the man simply felt too strongly about it to leave it alone, and Dumbledore had no doubt he'd do something more than momentarily incapacitate the Potions Professor, if he found himself with a similar situation in the future.

"Alright, for the time being I shall do my utmost to ensure you and Remus remain together for missions. At the moment, however, the two of you shall be staying at Hogwarts, and I strongly suggest you try to sort things out with Remus while you have this brief lull in activity!"

"Meanwhile," Albus sighed, as he leaned back in his chair, and attempted to broach the reason why Sirius and Remus would be staying at Hogwarts. "Our current task is of the utmost importance, and far more delicate and undertaking than we've ever done before."

Hearing Dumbledore speak so gravely, Sirius tensed in anticipation - afterall, what could be more important than his last mission?

"We need to get Harry and his mate together."

Chapter 24 : Disturbing Bedside Help

The first thing Draco became aware of upon awakening was a strong burning pain encompassing the entire front of his body. That, and the sound of someone throwing up in the distance.

Ignoring the pain in favour of wrinkling his nose in disgust at the noise of vomiting, Draco carefully inched his eyes open, glad to see the light didn't hurt his eyes, even if that was about the only thing not hurting. The sight that greeted him however, was not something Draco had ever expected to see and made him jerk in surprise.

The hospital ward was as sterile and falsely cheerful as always, although the absence of Madame Pomfrey's bustling presence served as an acute reminder that Draco still hadn't found out what happened to her after the scary 'sexual harassment' incident. The person throwing up turned out to be none other than Severus Snape, who was looking distinctly green as a concerned Remus Lupin patted him on the shoulder in sympathy. As Draco was watching though he saw something which he just knew would scar him for life.

Albus Dumbledore came strolling into the ward, and headed straight for the two Professors with a potion in his hand - dressed up in Madame Pomfrey's nurse uniform, with his long hair and beard plaited and flung over his shoulder like some kind of scarf.

That wasn't just disturbing, that was seriously wrong. Who cared if Madame Pomfrey was a dangerous sex-crazed woman, better her than a weird Headmaster, who fancied himself as a cross-dressing wet dream from the look of it!

Eyes rolling up to the back of his head, Draco let out an involuntary groan as he lost consciousness again.

Spinning to face the bed caused Albus' skirt to flare out, but the Headmaster ignored his rather daring fashion statement in favour of checking on the patient. "Did he just wake up?"

A pained snort came from the potions master, and even as he was lurching for the bin he managed to look sarcastic. Remus was much more considering with his answer, as he thoughtfully examined the evidence in front of him; fresh blood seeping through Draco's bandages from moving too quickly - the Headmaster wearing what could only be called a dress - and the rather stunned expression on the unconscious patient's face.

"Yes, I rather think he did wake up, however briefly it might have been."

Frowning thoughtfully, Dumbledore tugged on his plaited beard, unaware that what once looked scholarly and intellectual now looked girly - what with the ribbons in said beard. "Doesn't he know I'm dressed like this for sanitary reasons? And this was the only way to keep my hair safely back?"

Finished with his current bout of vomiting, Snape mentally cursed a certain Weasley's forgetfulness, even as he prepared to drag his dry sarcasm out of the closet.

"Given the outcome, I rather doubt he got that far in his thought processes."

Chapter 25 : Hermonic Inquisition - part one

Narrowly dodging the hardback book flung at his head with vicious intent, Harry barely managed to pant out a "Hi, Ron!" to the bemused redhead as he sprinted passed. Taking the stairs to his dorm room three at a time, Harry had unfortunately forgotten the minor fact that the stairs to the boys dorms didn't turn into a slide when girls tried to go up them.

Flinging the door open, Harry was preparing to jump under his bed, when something wrapped itself around his legs, clamping them together and sending him to the floor with a crash.

Peeking behind him, Harry was unsurprised to see Hermione standing there, wand still pointing at him. Calmly replacing her wand up her sleeve, Hermione surveyed the prize before her with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. Walking up to the prone boy, she raised her foot with a kind of fiendish glee, before gently placing it on Harry's back. The stance symbolic of victory.

"Now. No more running. No more hiding. And, definitely, no more subversion!"

Closing his eyes tightly shut, Harry wished he could block out her voice as well, but the paralysis she'd hit his legs with had crept up to his shoulders, and Harry couldn't so much as wiggle his pinky fingers.

"So, tell me Harry, what is going on with you? And Draco. Oh, and just so we're clear, that was a command, not a question. You _are_ going to tell me."

Drooping to the floor, Harry relaxed, as he realised a way he could answer Hermione honestly, without actually letting her know everything i.e. all of the stupid things Dumbledore kept coming out with to do with him and Draco, which were sooo stupid they weren't even true. At all. Ever.

"He showed me to the Circle of Light, and dropped the animosity act. So, I guess you could say we're…friends now? At the very least we're working on the same side now. But, you already knew that, since you also work with him. There, I've told you, now can I get up please?"

For a minute Hermione stared at Harry's back in disbelief, the green flecks in her eyes standing out in frustration. Removing her foot from Harry's back, she let Harry breath easy for a second, before bending down and putting her head next to his on the floor.

"I know what you are Harry."

The sudden declaration caught Harry off guard, and he was helpless to keep his body from tensing in defensive reaction. Noting his response, Hermione hurried onwards before Harry blocked her out completely.

"The way your looks changed. The way you lost your sight. The way people react to you. Everything. Dumbledore had to tell the Order and the Circle what you are in order to explain how you managed to handle Voldemort. After that it was easy to do some reading up and find out the rest."

Carefully leaving out the fact that the Circle had already been aware of Harry's new status…after Pansy had found out what Harry was from Severus, Hermione paused to see if Harry was planning on denying it for a while. When there was no response from the incapacitated boy, she quickly moved on.

"None of us are capable of leaking your secret to anyone - not just because we have no wish to hurt you, but Dumbledore's magic also prevents it. Even eavesdroppers won't be able to hear about it. But, please Harry, tell me this at least…is Draco your…?"

Green eyes wide with panic and pain glared at the carpet. Why did people have to keep jumping to that conclusion? What was the point in dredging up the idea all the time, when it was so obviously not the case?

"No. He's…not."

Hermione looked at Harry in concern when she heard the pain and weariness coating his voice. Hmm, if that's the case, then why do you seem so upset about it? Deciding she needed to step back and re-evaluate the situation before taking any action, Hermione released Harry from the creeping bodybind and helped him up off the floor.

"I'm sorry."

Blushing slightly when he turned his large green eyes on her, Hermione was curious to note she remained slightly awed by how potent his looks were, even though she now understood what he was.

"I shouldn't have pushed you so hard. It's your personal life, and curiosity shouldn't come before courtesy. I just, wanted to help, or at least be able to share the knowledge with you,"

"For years, I had to keep my secret from you and Ron. That I was something considered abnormal, even by the wizarding community's standards. I didn't want something else to come between us all,"

"So, from now on, I won't ask you anything about your heritage or love life, unless you question me first of course. But, if you ever want to just talk…I'm here, and might even be able to help, who knows?"

Casting his eyes down to his hands, the motion caused a lock of his hair to fall across his forehead, momentarily covering his silvery scar from view. With the absence of that minor imperfection, Hermione's breath was literally stolen from her, and for a moment it was all she could do to just stare at this person who looked like some kind of statue, perched motionless on the bed as he was.

A slight shake of his head made the curl fall back, and the scar was again visible. Green eyes fringed by black darted up to her face, and just like that the statue had come to life.

Seeing the look on her face, Harry hesitated, recognising the hunger he'd seen from Madame Pomfrey when she accosted him. Tensing his muscles in preparation, Harry couldn't stop the slight flinch he made when she placed her hand on his arm.

"I do have some control Harry, no matter how pretty a picture you might make."

Focusing on the slight indignation in her voice, Harry nodded, instinctively knowing she understood his reaction and was only put out by her own reaction to him.

"I know you do. You're one of the most controlled people I know, and I'm…glad, to know that I can discuss stuff with you. It's…a relief."

Smiling, Hermione dipped her head in acknowledgement. Understanding how hard it was for him to discuss his little 'oddity', and having had similar experience with her own brand of weirdness, Hermione hesitated to put Harry through anything else, but some things needed to be addressed.

"Have you talked to Ron yet?" Noticing Harry bite his lip, and take on the same cornered rabbit expression he'd had when she first accosted him about Draco, Hermione waited patiently for Harry to work things through at his own speed, this time. Afterall - there are only so many times you can put a bodybind on your friend in one day.

"Not yet. I think we'd all better sit down and have a talk. I mean, he knows about you and the Circle now, and he probably knows about me. I know about you and the Circle, but I don't understand the thing with Ron. You probably know everything, as always, but I think, in this instance, it might be a good idea for us all to come clean about our various 'secret's', right?"

Knowing Harry wasn't expecting her to answer that, Hermione just smiled slightly when he looked at her. Despite being scared of telling them what she was when they all first became friends, it now looked like her secret was the most mundane out of all of them!

Leaving it to Harry to corner Ron and arrange a proper talk, Hermione decided to see where Draco stood on the subject of Harry. Besides, he was already laid up in bed, meaning no bodybind's would be necessary.

Chapter 26 : Harmonic Inquisition - part two

Pushing open the door to the infirmary, Hermione was met with the rather unusual sight of Headmaster Dumbledore in a nurses' uniform, feeding a rather flustered looking Draco a potion for pain, whilst Snape sat on another hospital bed, a bucket in his lap and a rather doleful expression on his face.

Dumbledore looked up when Hermione entered, and a brief moment of eye-communication ensued.

"Sanitary?"

Dumbledore nodded, a satisfied expression crossing his face.

"Sanitary."

Moving away from the now gobsmacked Draco, Dumbledore went and helped Professor Snape off the bed, guiding him to the door as one would an infant.

Shaking her head at Snape's odd compliance, Hermione smoothed her robes down and took a seat next to Draco's head.

Despite his paler than normal complexion, due to the loss of blood, and the swaths of bandage covering his torso, Draco looked remarkably well for someone who had almost died.

"So…what've I missed?" The expectant look in Draco's grey eyes caused a flash of amusement to go through the girl. It was just so typical of Draco to demand an immediate update even though he'd only been out of action for seven hours maximum.

"You were the worst injured, everybody else has already been discharged from the infirmary. None of the Death Eaters were captured: those that weren't killed were the smart ones who ran when they saw you lot."

"You were out the rest of last night, and all of this morning. It's just coming up to lunch time now, and given it's Saturday nobody has noticed your absence, the majority of them have headed off to Hogsmeade anyway…"

"Your father was the one who attacked you, as I'm sure you remember. He slipped away some time after that."

Pausing to let Draco take that part in, Hermione carefully watched his face for his reaction to her next bit of news.

"He almost killed you, and would have. If Harry hadn't intervened."

Taking in everything else she'd said with the calmness typical of Draco, even though it was his own _father_ who had tried to kill him, at the mention of what Harry had done, he went utterly still. Slight widening of his eyes indicated his surprise, and the emotions which flashed over his face were almost too fast for Hermione to catch. The fact that they were actually visible for once as well, spoke highly of Draco's lack of control over them.

Shock, happiness, worry and wonder were among the many emotions Draco experienced, but dominant in his mind was the fact that Harry had cared enough to notice what was happening to him during the middle of a fight. Draco himself had hardly been aware of what was going on, even with his powers helping him track curses and such aimed at him. What if Harry had gotten hurt looking out for Draco? As far as he knew Harry had never participated in a full out magic battle, and he definitely didn't have the kind of ruthlessness needed for such an event! What had Draco been thinking when he'd let the boy-wonder join the Circle for the fight in the first place? Had he been trying to get the person-he-was-supposed-to-protect killed, and then doom the whole wizarding world to the insane Voldemort's rule!

"Is…" Clearing his throat to get rid of the annoying crack it contained, Draco raised cautious eyes to Hermione. "Did he get hurt?"

Managing to refrain from raising an eyebrow, barely, Hermione found it interesting that even though she'd already told Draco there had been no severe injuries other than his own, and everybody except him was already healed, he still checked to make sure Harry was all right. As if she wouldn't have said if he'd been injured!

"No, he was fine. If anything you should worry about what he did to Voldemort - now that was impressive!…scary, but impressive."

"I'll worry about who I want! Besides…wait a - Voldemort!"

Seeing the normally cool ice-prince sat there with his mouth hanging open, and an expression of such blind panic on his face that there was no room for any other emotions, was just too satisfying for Hermione, and she evilly decided to drag the explanation out slightly.

"Yes, okay - sorry. I was just trying to make the point that Harry can handle himself, although apparently I did it very poorly."

Grey eyes snapped back to his main source of information, a fervent light in their dark depths. Studying her carefully down-turned face, a sly thought made itself known to Draco. Shutting his mouth carefully, he registered Hermione's lack of anxiety, and let the spark of gold unfurl as he rolled that fact around his head.

"So…he killed Voldemort then?"

Veiled eyes noted the sudden shift in Hermione's behaviour, the spark that had infused her with eagerness vanished and her entire body slumped downwards, as he took away her edge with one sentence.

"Yes. What clue did I give that aided your powers?"

"You were too calm. So, tell me what happened - and _don't_ try to scare me like that again!"

Hermione's eyelashes lifted and almond-shaped brown eyes looked out at Draco, the returned gleam in their depths making him feel distinctly nervous. He recognised that look - what had he said that had given her back her edge?

"After dealing with Mr Malfoy, Harry went to check on you. Voldemort zeroed in on him and went to kill him, but Harry beat him to it. Whilst Harry was killing Voldemort your…Mr Malfoy escaped. From all accounts Harry was very…efficient about how he handled Voldemort. One things for sure, Voldemort never stood a chance!"

"How'd he do it? It can't have been as easy as you're making out - if that was the case someone else would have done it ages ago!" Draco frowned slightly, sure he was overlooking something…

"Pansy!"

Tilting her head to the side, Hermione considered him silently for a moment, hoping his brain was working at a slower rate than normal due to a certain dark-haired teenage half-veela, and not the wounds he was recovering from. With anyone else it would have been the wounds, but with Draco it took a lot more to keep him down…

"Yes, Pansy succeeded in her mission of making Professor Snape talk. Turns out Harry is part-veela. He killed Voldemort by, basically, drawing all of the bastard's life energy out of him - there's a whole scientific explanation for the occurrence, which will be in my report, but I figure you'd want a concise response right now. Point is, Voldemort wasn't so much killed as his life was…erased. No way of coming back from that, and even if there was, he wouldn't have known to prepare for such an event,"

"There was a council meeting about half an hour ago - Dumbledore had to tell us all about Harry being half-veela, in order to explain how he managed to kill Voldemort. There was, of course, a spell woven into his words, meaning we can't tell others - luckily though, the Headmaster is unaware of the fact that the Circle can circumvent such spells. Still, anybody who's eavesdropping won't hear what we're talking about, so it's still useful. Dumbledore, however, is lacking as much information as we have - such as the way Harry managed to kill Voldemort, in that respect he's just guessing. All but minimum information and aid has been withdrawn from the man, as per your request,"

"Harry himself is fine - Voldemort literally didn't have time to lay a finger on him, as it turns out half-veelas are pretty fast on their feet…and strong…and incredibly beautiful, once they come into their heritage. Which comes in useful when feeding on the general population…"

Letting herself taper to a stop, Hermione wondered if that would be enough of a lure to grab Draco's attention. _Jealous_ attention with any luck.

"Good, about the Dumbledore thing, but what do you mean, 'feeding on the population'?" At the worried tone of voice, Hermione leaned further forward, feeling she was finally about to find out how at least one of the boys felt about the other.

"Turns out half-veelas have to feed on…sexual energy. Generally that's their mate, but for a veela who hasn't found their mate it's often too dangerous to feed on only one person, so Harry's going to have to spread his feedings around a bit, otherwise he risks sending some people insane."

Turning his head sharply, Draco's piercing eyes locked onto Hermione's with the directness of a heat-seeking missile. Gulping, Hermione wondered if she'd gone too far.

"Well…that explains what happened to Pomfrey at any rate."

Huh? Had she lost the plot or something? Hermione could have sworn she'd been talking about Harry, not Madame Pomfrey - yet that was the direction Draco had turned the conversation in. Maybe she'd been wrong in thinking Draco was interested in Harry for more than his potential as an allie.

"Right after Dumbledore gave Harry's protection over to the Circle, you know how Harry came to the infirmary because of his blindness? Well, whilst we were here Pomfrey tried to make a play for Harry - and me as well, once she realised I wasn't going to leave him there with her. Afterwards, with some prompting, Harry admitted he'd had a similar incident with her already,"

"From what you've just told me it's clear she was his first feeding, and from the sounds of it it got slightly out of hand. Then of course, there's all the kidnapping attempts the Circle have had to 'interrupt'…"

Glad that Draco was so obviously focused on Harry, Hermione never-the-less had some less-than-pleasant news to impart.

"Whilst in the council meeting, we gained some new intel from Black and Shacklebolt. Your father went straight from the battle to meeting Minister Fudge - who he killed. This indicates the Death Eaters were prepared for the possibility of Voldemort dying, and someone else is already in control of the Death Eaters. We have no way of knowing what they'll do next, and we won't be able to even guess until we know for sure who's taken over."

Thinking the matter over, Draco quickly tapped into his powers to see if he had enough information to figure out who had seized control.

A bright gold blaze temporarily lit up the room - but, all too soon, Draco was back to his normal self. Grey eyes slightly lighter than usual, but shaking his head in negation.

"I didn't get anything. Until they make a move, or some new information comes to light, we'll just have to be extra careful. I want a member of the Circle to be by Harry's side constantly. We'll set up a less-obvious guard during the day and night as well - possibly on a shift rotation. Dispatch the telepaths around the school, and get Michelle Warren to put a tracer on as many of the known Death Eaters as possible. Did Drake pick anything of use up during the meeting?"

"Interestingly enough, yes - Bill Weasley appears to be in a relationship with your Godfather. William Haigh remained as circumspect as always, but Drake managed to get a grip on the woman, Sophie Darlton, for the first time,"

"She was predominantly satisfied. A bit scathing towards McGonagal, and - to some extent - Dumbledore as well. But the strongest hit Drake got off her was towards the end; extreme annoyance and concern that the Death Eaters already had a new leader, and deeply curious as to why Dumbledore evaded her question about Sirius - Drake's going to try and talk to her separately; get her to open up even more if possible."

Looking up abruptly, Draco frowned as he focused in on one of the points.

"You mean he hasn't informed _anybody_ about Sirius Black's ability to teleport! What does he hope to gain from keeping that secret? I can understand him not sharing it with us - afterall, he keeps as much as he can from us - but to hide such a strength from the Order…"

"He is still unaware Sirius belongs to the Circle. He appears to be working under the assumption that there are no adult Circle members, and in all likelihood is trying to keep Sirius out of the spotlight - for fear of discrimination maybe. Dumbledore has also hidden the knowledge about Black's animagus form from the Order. It's only because of his need for Sirius to be an active member of the Order that he even told people about Pettigrew's role in the Potter's deaths."

"True. Still, I dislike that Dumbledore is keeping so much to himself. It makes me distrust the man even more than I did before - quite a feat that. Tell Sirius to keep a close eye on the old coot, and to inform us as to any changes. Other than that, same drill - don't acknowledge his connection to us, and use the obscurer members of the Circle, on a random rotating basis, for contact points. For today I want you and Ron to guard Harry - don't leave him alone for a moment - and work on a schedule of guards. I should be back in action tomorrow, and I want to look it over before it's implemented."

Satisfied that Draco had just handed her the keys to manoeuvring him into spending a great deal more time with Harry, and, confident that from there she'd be able to prompt their 'relationship' along, Hermione left the infirmary to carry out the various tasks issued to her.

Chapter 27 : Something's got to give - part one

Quick footsteps reverberated on the stone floors, to be found running throughout the castle. Rustling cloth brushed against a hastily taken corner, before the voluminous material was hastily gathered up once more.

Harsh breathing grated in an attempt at control; muffled, gasping sobs managing to break free on occasion.

Wild eyes darted to every shadowy corner and in the direction of every slight creak, terror in their depths as they made split second decisions on directions.

Feet tapping out a wearier tune, slowing down as they approached their destination, and safety.

A strange whooshing noise filled the corridor, like that of a thundering waterfall, and the figure froze for one, crucial, instant. By the time they'd sprung back into action, feet pounding out a frantic tune, it was too late. Concrete vines whipped out of the floor, wrapping round the struggling figure with a speed unexpected from something made of stone.

A brief crackling noise accompanied the stone solidifying, shortly followed by the same whooshing noise heard previously, as the desperately running figure was yanked into the floor, caged in tendrils of solid stone.

Polished, black shoes, better suited for a formal dinner than school, stepped out of the shadows. Cautiously approaching the spot on the floor where the other person had once stood.

Circling the spot with carefully measured steps, the owner of the shoes examined the area for any evidence, a small 'hmm' of…surprise? approval? satisfaction? the only noise in the corridor.

"And it works like that every time? You're positive? That speed, that inescapable? It won't just…collapse or something, right?"

The designer of the trap stepped forward, black cloak hiding shoes from sight. Eager to close the deal, the figure struggled to repress their sigh of impatience. Typical - should have known this type of person would want to know absolutely everything there was to know about the actual procedure.

"I assure you, the spell works perfectly. Every time. The whole point of this practical demonstration was to allow you a chance to view it for yourself. If, however, you find this was not to your satisfaction, then I was obviously mistaken to think this was what you were after…"

"No! I mean," Nervous hands smoothed down an impeccably positioned purple tie, as the buyer reminded themselves what type of person they were dealing with.

"This is exactly what I want, no doubt. I just…needed to be sure it would work exactly the same. You assure me it does, and I'll take your word for it. We never settled on a price, so how much do you want for it…?"

"Oh, never mind money." An airy gesture showed who had the power, as the figure casually dismissed that type of payment. "Just consider this a…favour. And in return, expect a call for your services at some point."

"I'll make sure the exact workings of the spell are delivered to you at the required time, but, if you'll excuse me, I have some other business to attend to."

Considering the deal closed, the cloaked figure moved to go away.

"Oh, yes, of course. That girl. Wwwhat…did you say you were planning to do to her again?"

Hearing the give-away tremor in the other person's 'casual' voice, the figure allowed a sly smile to grace their features. Turning back to look at the person remaining by the spot of disappearance, a malicious gleam entered their eyes.

"I didn't say, and it would be in your best interests to keep your…curiosity, in this matter to a minimum. Understand?"

Nodding hasty agreement, the person managed to stutter out a 'yes' eventually, but the other had already left.

Chapter 28 : Something's got to give - part two

Holding back a sigh, Harry cast a slightly nervous glance over at Hermione. Luckily the brunette witch didn't seem to have noticed his almost-slip, something that rather surprised the half-veela, given her recent propensity to observe all of his mannerisms and try to distinguish which ones originated from his once-secret heritage.

Well, in a way it _was_ still secret. Afterall only Dumbledore, the Circle, and Ron knew what he was. So, yeah, it was still a secret to the rest of the school…and the wizarding world. Oh, yeah - and Ron had of course informed his superiors in the Cotsden society about it…and Harry still wasn't entirely clear about that side of things.

Dumbledore knew because - well, he'd discovered Harry of course. The Circle had found out due to Dumbledore telling them - and likewise the Order knew for the same reason.

Ron had had to be told, not least because he'd already figured out most of it from Hharry's behaviour, but also because if Ron was really going to come 'clean' about the Cotsden group, and properly help Harry and the Circle, he'd argued it was only fair that they be completely clear with him as well.

Cotsden apparently was a heavily secretive secret society. _Was_, because, until Ron's revelation, everyone had believed it to have been disbanded generations ago, with the members' dying out or making an escape while they still could. Apparently, people hadn't taken well to the idea of people spying on them, and an air of suspicion and anxiety had arisen - the result of which being that any members of Cotsden were treated with hostility and violence. However, instead of disbanding, the actual members of the society had gone even further underground, stamping out any whispers of their presence in an attempt to maintain the society, and prevent any such events from occurring again.

Cotsden's main aim was to maintain the balance in society - in all societies; wizard, muggle, veela, elf, dark creatures, etc. In order to do this they kept track of current affairs in all the societies - something which they found absurdly simple to do, given they had members in all of them - and they occasionally stepped in to regulate situations. In Voldemort's last rising there hadn't been much they could do except put some members into the Order of the Phoenix, and leak information about Voldemort to Dumbledore.

This time though, they'd decided precautions needed to be taken to prevent another uprising - and this time they had something to focus their energies on. Harry.

Membership to the society was highly exclusive, and, whilst the majority of people were recruited when they were older - due to the fact that their personalities and beliefs were less prone to change then - some people did get recruited at an earlier age - if they demonstrated extraordinary skills or the kind of commitment Cotsden required. Ron was one such prodigal child, and had been an active member of the society since he was just a toddler, when he'd exhibited signs of great intelligence, not to mention out-of-this-world strategic skills.

Hearing that part, Harry had felt rather doubtful - after all, how exactly can you recruit a _toddler_ for a top-secret society. Apparently, it's very easy when they're as intelligent as Ron was. Kidnapping a willing child is easy enough - kidnapping a willing child and replacing it with a believable doppelganger, for the society at least, is simplicity itself.

Several 'tea parties' later, and the society had managed to explain their ideals in a manner which a highly intelligent toddler could understand - and since then they'd been secretly training him to hone his skills. Carrying such a burden, and having to become a consummate liar from such an early age, meant that Ron had long perfected his mask before he even met Harry.

The society had never ordered Ron to befriend Harry, merely watch over him for them - Ron's aim had been to offer subtle aid when Harry needed it, and keep a general track of Harry, but almost immediately he'd found himself becoming close friends with him instead - something which he'd never truly had as a kid, what with being a great deal cleverer than the other kids his age, and having so many things he couldn't share with them.

And whilst Ron still had to keep secrets from Harry and Hermione, he'd suddenly had other secrets he _could_ share with them - secrets they'd made together.

Harry would have had to be a donkey to not realise Ron was expecting Harry to blow up at him - or to hate him for keeping such secrets from him - but, faced with the truth, Harry found he couldn't react like that. To be perfectly honest, Harry was rather glad it turned out his friends had both been keeping things from him, as it showed that none of them were ordinary. It wasn't just 'Harry-the-celebrity' anymore; now it was 'Ron-the-spy', 'Hermione-the-Circle-member' and 'Harry-the-half-veela'.

And that felt kind of nice.

Hermione had since put herself in charge of 'Project Harry', and as such Harry'd been forced to find out many helpful things about himself, like; the fact he unconsciously purred when eating grapes (a delicacy for veela's apparently), sniffed the air when hearing someone approaching, and took every subtle chance he could get to rub himself against others. Draco in particular.

Then again, this was Hermione making all of the observations, and she appeared to be enamoured with the idea of him and Draco getting together, so maybe it was worth taking everything she said with a touch of scepticism.

Granted, all of the other facts were true, and even the rubbing thing - loath though he was to admit it - but he hadn't noticed himself seeking Draco out for such a thing. If anything it appeared as though Draco was trying to minimise their contact. Not that Harry cared or anything.

Risking another glance up from his textbook, Harry's eyes automatically darted across the room, landing on the tow-headed boy currently bent over his own book, and apparently sharing none of Harry's difficulties in concentrating.

At the table next to the window in the abandoned classroom turned study room, Pansy and Ron were laughing together softly, gaining some kind of amusement from the astronomy chart spread out before them both. The way those two had hit it off made Harry feel happy - he'd always wanted Ron to be happy, and it looked like he finally was. Plus, Pansy looked perfectly capable of keeping Ron in order, which even Hermione had trouble doing sometimes.

Speaking of, Hermione was perched on the transfigured couch next to Harry, mindlessly turning pages. Seemingly going through the book at a pace Harry wasn't used to seeing even Hermione use. A brief look up at her face showed her gaze focused on something other than the supposedly-gripping book though, and, catching the sadness dwelling in their depths, Harry's green gaze followed the path hers trod.

Only finding Pansy and Ron at the end, Harry's brows drew together in a frown. Okay, so maybe he'd briefly suspected Ron and Hermione would end up together, but his brief foray into the Circle of Light had let him know that Hermione and Ron had never shared those kind of feelings. So why would Hermione be feeling sad if she wasn't even attracted to him? Something to ruminate over later at any rate.

Watching as the normally-graceful girl slumped back in her seat, a sigh falling from her lips as she returned her attention to her textbook, Harry decided to make use of his 'keeper's' distraction. Even though he knew she'd hate to be thought of as such, and the label made even him cringe, that was exactly what Hermione had become. And the constant surveillance and attention was getting on his nerves.

It had been three days since Draco had woken up in the hospital ward. Neville had been unharmed in his abduction, and he'd immediately insisted that his boyfriend teach him to better defend himself magically and physically. Despite protesting originally, Blaise soon acquiesced, and the two now spent almost every spare minute training together, and enjoying the chance to see each other more often.

Madame Pomfrey had been reinstated as nurse, and was almost fully recovered. She still got dizzy spells occasionally, and was now helped out in her daily work by another medi-witch, but other than that was perfectly safe to be around, and had absolutely no memory of the things that had led to her hospitalisation.

Draco's order of constant vigilance for Harry had been taken to heart by everyone, and Harry's 24/7 guard turned out to be Hermione - who, whilst logically best-suited for the task, had been strangely reluctant to take it on at first.

Now, Harry was actually physically itching from the tension. It felt like tiny ants were crawling under his skin and all the hairs on his arms stood on end, as the sensation put him distinctly on edge.

Easing himself off the couch, Harry gratefully noted nobody in the room had registered his slight movement before silently moving around the furniture, heading towards the door. Once in the empty corridor, Harry gave a rough shake, trying to shake away the creepy feeling of walls closing in, before drawing a deep lungful of air in an attempt to relax himself.

Heading off to the Astronomy tower to sit and try to shake the image of sparkling grey eyes from his thoughts, Harry was only halfway there when the sensation of eyes watching him overcame him. And those eyes definitely didn't feel grey.

Modulating his walk as best he could, Harry refrained from changing his destination, despite knowing how much more dangerous it would be to fight so high up. Instinct overpowered reasoning, and something in him urged him on higher and higher. Reaching the stone steps to the isolated tower, Harry climbed.

Eerie satisfaction seemed to flow up the stairs after him, and Harry allowed himself to speed up. Opening the door to the tower with a bang, he headed for the middle of the room and turned to face the door, which was swinging shut.

Harry had only just spread his legs slightly in preparation of a confrontation when a strange whooshing noise filled the small chamber, and something big rose up behind him, its odd-looking shadow on the stone floor sending a chill of premonition down his spine.

Chapter 29 : Something's got to give - part three

Something about being kept in a cage was making Harry antsy.

Maybe it was the unfeasible smallness of the cage, which rendered standing impossible, and caused him to hunch over even sat down. Or maybe it was the fact that there were people outside the cage, shadowy figures who were watching him as though he were some kind of exotic creature, and giving him an unpleasant idea of how animals at a zoo must feel.

Or maybe it was simply the bars of the cage, and the fact they represented his separation from freedom. Something every new-found instinct in Harry's body was clamouring for.

Shifting slightly in an attempt to relieve the crick in his back, Harry winced as his movement triggered off pangs of pain from the injuries he'd sustained from the stone monstrosity that had effectively 'grabbed' him in the tower. Blood trickled from a gash on his head, the red tinting his restored vision as though everything were awash with gore.

Rather apt, considering what Harry was going to do when he escaped. _If_ he escaped.

Just as Harry was berating himself for doubting such a thing, one of the dark figures in the room decided to step forward.

Trailing cloak sweeping along the dust-free floor, the slight figure moved forward until they were close enough to reach through the bars and touch Harry, if they so chose. 'And if they did they'd be in for a shock', Harry thought as he clenched his sharpening teeth in anticipation, hidden behind the shielding coverage of his lips.

"Well? Are you satisfied with our services?"

The suddenness of the voice would have made Harry jump - if there were room for it. Thankfully the imposition of his bars kept him from that final humiliation.

Finding the voice unexpectedly familiar, Harry tilted his head to the side in curiosity. Green eyes unwittingly beginning to sparkle, and attracted unwanted attention.

"Although, now that he's here, I have to admit he seems almost too fine a prize for one such as you. Maybe it would be best for all if I kept him for my own means - afterall we have yet to receive your money…still time to break the bargain…"

A nervous voice sounded from the darker rim of the as-yet unseen room. "No!"

Recoiling as though slapped, the person's hood slipped down as they turned to direct an astonished glare at the person who'd spoken out of turn.

Seeing the material slide away in almost slow motion, Harry's enhanced vision drank in the gleaming russet locks as though they were lit by the brightest of lights, not the dank dimness of reality.

Smooth ivory skin flowed down from the top of their head, the perfect arch of their nose rising like the moon slowly lifting out of a still sea at sunset. Normally placid eyebrows were arched incredulously above the emotionless blue ovals that served as the windows to this person's soul. Soul-less.

Perfect, pink lips were formed into a cupid's bow of astonishment, and as they moved into a frown, Harry's own lips mouthed the name of his captor with a confusing array of emotions running through him; disappointment, hurt, shock, disgust and anguish to but mention a few.

'Ginny…'

"We had an agreement! You said yourself that you had no interest in what happens to him…there is no reason for you to go back on your word."

Stepping away from the others, who parted as though making way for a leper, yet another familiar figure made his way forward.

Recognising the acid green aura that preceded the person, Harry let out an involuntary gasp. Unfortunately this only seemed to please the Ravenclaw, as Ben's face creased with a very-white smile at the sign of recognition from his captive.

A petulant expression crossed Ginny's face, rendering her even more distant from the girl Harry had thought he knew.

"True, it makes no difference to our plans what happens to him - but I find myself remembering a certain instance where I was rejected by him, and it occurs to me - this is the perfect opportunity to correct that."

Sparing a scathing look at the spluttering Ravenclaw, Ginny allowed a minor concession. "You may have whatever is left."

For a minute it looked like the Ravenclaw was going to give in, if the way he hunched in on himself was any indication. But at the last second, a new voice rang out.

"Now, now, Ginny darling - a deal is a deal. And this one happens to be one I made, meaning you have no say in whether it gets broken or not."

Back-peddling frantically, Ginny's blue eyes widened innocently. "Of course…I apologise for my insubordination. Inadvertent though it may have been."

Slipping in the implication that she hadn't done anything wrong, even as she hastily backed away from the cage, seemed a bit contradictory to Harry. Afterall - if she hadn't done anything wrong, why was she so quick to move away?

This newcomer hadn't come from those in the shadows, but rather from a doorway - previously unnoticed by Harry - just to the right of his cage. Noting the subtle rustlings as everybody moved from slouching to practically at attention, Harry was rather interested to find out who was commanding such respect, and…yes, that was the acrid scent of fear he smelled.

Reaching Ben Sriften's side in three easy, almost languid steps, the figure slowly reached up and pulled down the hood of their cloak, revealing…Millicent Bulstrode.

Green eyes watched as that familiar pig-like face swept over the assembled congregation, obviously ensuring all attention was centred on herself before continuing. Green eyes followed her short, stubby hands, as they smoothed down her cloak with the imagined grace of someone three times thinner, and four times more polished. And it was green eyes that narrowed in anger as they took in the proprietary air with which she then leaned her chunky bulk against the cage.

But it was a pair of milky-white eyes that met Bulstrode's stare challengingly, when she finally deigned to look the 'prisoner' in the face.

Obviously taken aback at the sight, Bulstrode was nevertheless quick to brush it off, and continue with her 'tantalising' performance.

"We kept up our end of the bargain, and I hope you'll ignore the minor mishap with Ginny - she's a Weasley afterall - and keep to your end of the bargain. Your services, whenever, for whatever - agreed?"

Watching the dancing acid green which was now all Harry could see of Ben, he was amazed that the glowing green lights barely hesitated before bobbing in acquiescence. You'd have thought he'd ask for some more details than that!

"Agreed."

"Good." The sound of a clap echoed in Harry's ears, making him shake his head sharply in annoyance of the harsh sound.

"What are you shaking your head for? In case you missed the point, you have been kidnapped - thus you have no say in the matter!"

Waiting for the muted clapping, and Bulstrode's laughter to die down, Harry welcomed the hot simmer of anger like a long-lost friend. When in reality he'd found it again the other day, when he'd seen Draco struck down by Lucius Malfoy.

"That's where you are wrong - I do have a say in the matter. And I say 'no'."

Silence greeted his words, and Harry watched as the different coloured lights all stilled as one - his statement obviously shocking them. Good. A dangerous smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and it was with the feeling of coming home that Harry surrendered himself to his veela half.

What occurred next was a blur to Harry. He recalled harsh laughter; snarls; screams - someone crying in terror. All about him whorls of colour sparked and shimmered, flaring and fading, coming nearer, then farther away. Finally it stopped.

The milky blindness slowly faded from his eyes, and a gasp tore from his hoarse throat.

Harry found himself standing in the middle of the room, bloody bodies littering the floor around him. Some had obviously tried to run away, and it was their blood that had sprayed up the walls to form a macabre art piece.

Looking behind him he saw the jagged remains of his cage - bars ripped in half, bent over double - as though some fierce creature had exploded out of it. Yet there was no sign of Ginny or Millicent Bulstrode. A whimpering form was still there though, and a closer examination showed it to be Ben Sriften - curled up in a foetal position, and clutching at his mangled privates.

Judging from the ripped flesh, still dripping copious amounts of blood, Harry felt it safe to say that nobody would ever have to fear an attack of that nature from the Ravenclaw, ever again.

A quick sniff of the air produced the metallic scent of something missing - the smell that resulted from use of a portkey. Making it highly likely whoever was controlling Bulstrode and her cohorts was aware by now that there was something 'different' about Harry. Great.

Oh, and as if that wasn't enough, Harry could already feel the burn from his expenditure of energy, and he didn't think the hunger would be satisfied with minor feedings this time. Maybe Draco would stop avoiding him long enough for a repeat of what happened in the bathroom…? Unlikely, but if he didn't, it looked like Harry would have to take Dumbledore up on his suggestion. Here's hoping Ron and the others never found out and decided to hate him for it.

Stalking over to the door, Harry found it opened out into a corridor in the dungeon. Praying he didn't get lost - the last thing he needed was to see Snape - Harry exited the room, the groaning forms within already far from his mind.

"These corridors are like a bloody maze - only the 'stick to the left' rule doesn't apply!"

Muttering angrily under his breath, a faint flicker of awe surfaced as he realised just how far the stone cage had dragged him, but he quickly squashed it down with more irritation.

Noticing his hands glowing faintly, Harry lifted one up for closer examination, entranced by the way it looked like his hand was almost translucent. If past experience was anything to go by, he had until his temperature started to fluctuate before he went completely schizo, and jumped anything, still…couldn't hurt to hurry up a pace.

Another three turns came and went, but still nothing familiar. Giving up on familiarity, Harry was about to take a left, when the sound of crying reached his enhanced ears.

About to ignore it, the sound held so much pain and despair in it, that he found himself turning back almost against his will.

Heading unerringly for the next door down, he pressed his body against the wall, so he'd be partially hidden when he opened the door, and he quickly unlocked it with the wand he'd re-acquired at some point in his rampage. Giving the door a gentle push, it swung open with an ominous creak. The crying stopped.

Peering round the doorframe, a sight met Harry's eyes that he would never forget.

The entire room was done up like an old-fashioned dungeon - with authentic chains, and instruments of torture hung up on the walls. In the centre of the room, immediately in sight once the door was open, stood a large, wooden monstrosity, whose purpose was immediately obvious - due to the fact that it was in use.

Three long wooden poles, were leaning against each other - joined at the top, and looking like something a kid had made in an attempt to make a pyramid. On each of the separate poles were two wooden boards, equal distances apart. Attached to the poles and boards were leather straps, obviously used to tie someone down with.

Attached to the pole nearest the door, was a young girl. A leather strap went from one side of her head to another - pinning her head to the pole. She'd been strapped, spread eagled to the boards - the top board held her arms, and the bottom one her legs. Yet another leather strap was wrapped around her waist, no doubt to keep her from moving.

She still had her clothes on - what was left of them - so Harry was optimistic she hadn't been raped. Judging from the cuts and burns littering her flesh, not to mention the old blood staining the floor beneath her, that wasn't much to be thankful for though.

Long brown hair hung limply over the pole, and hazel tear-glazed eyes pleaded with Harry to help her, or at the very least not hurt her.

Incapable of resisting that plea, Harry stepped into the empty room. Moving to stand by her head, he gently undid the leather strap around her head, passively noting the indentation and burn marks on her forehead - indicating she'd fought against the binding.

"It's okay, I'm not here to hurt you -I'll get you out of here. Would you like that? Could you tell me your name? Here, let me get these nasty straps off."

Keeping up a constant stream of soothing chatter, Harry pitched his voice lower, noticing the calming effect it had instantly. Her eyes maintained their wary look, but her body relaxed against he bindings, making it easier to undo them.

"I'm Dddiana. Please…ddon't let them…hurt me…"

Noticing the effort it took for her to eke out that much, Harry didn't ask her anything else. Instead he carried on reassuring her she'd be all right, that he was going to help her, and telling her how helpful she was being.

As he worked on the straps it occurred to Harry that with Zabini as her surname, it was highly likely she was a sister or cousin of Blaise's. Now Harry had someone to take her to for immediate help, and Blaise would likely be better at keeping her calm.

Finally she was free, and it seemed that whoever had been torturing her had also been doctoring her, as all of her more serious wounds had been treated with something to stop the bleeding, and then bandaged.

Glad she didn't need any emergency treatment before they set off, Harry gently lifted her into his arms, and vacated that foul room as quickly as possible.

Once back in the endless corridors, Harry enlisted his damsel in distress's help in finding his way to the rest of the castle, and from there, Draco. Making sure she rested her screamed-out throat, and his own rather sore one, Harry asked her to point which turns he should take, and she proved to be rather knowledgeable on the dungeon corridors.

Eventually they exited into the entrance hall of the castle, and Harry hurried to find Draco and co, praying Diana's captors wouldn't notice her absence immediately.

Chapter 30 : How many secrets are in _your_ wallet?

Watching as Draco gently pulled the dorm room door shut, Harry couldn't shake the image of a crying Zabini comforting the little girl who'd turned out to be his younger sister.

A visit from a member of the Circle who specialised in healing - Lucy Goldfin, from Hufflepuff - and Diana Zabini was physically back to the shape she was before she was taken, but only time could heal the mental traumas she had suffered in her captivity.

Harry had found Draco and co as they were leaving the classroom they'd been in before he'd been caged, and it was with distant surprise that Harry realised only an hour, two at the most, had passed since he was last there. Strange to realise you could discover so much in such a short amount of time. Even stranger to think what you now knew wasn't portrayed on your face, for everyone to see.

Draco had leapt into action, herding everyone to his own rooms, seeing how he was a prefect and had a common room and bathroom all to himself. Getting Hermione to contact Lucy, the healer had arrived within minutes, the healing commencing soon after arrival.

Everyone had accepted Harry's babbled explanation of finding Diana down in the dungeons, and thankfully they'd then been too concerned with Diana's condition to think to question what he'd been doing down there in the first place. Another major concern for them was also the fact that Blaise hadn't known his sister had been taken - meaning they'd trained someone to act like Diana closely enough that Blaise had been tricked by polyjuice. This was not a good sign, given how close Blaise and Diana were, and it was only through sheer luck that Blaise never shared any secrets about the Circle with his sister.

Turning to face the anxious cluster of people filling his modest common room, Draco rubbed a hand through his blond hair before managing a wry smile at the sight they all made.

"She'll be fine. Right now, the best thing for Diana is to be with Blaise. Everything else can come after, okay? So, why don't you all head off to your own rooms? It's getting late." Looking briefly in Harry's direction, Draco's eyes momentarily paused, a foreign emotion flitting through them too fast for Harry to determine, before continuing around the rest of the group.

Various grumblings could be heard about being rushed off, but people gradually began leaking out the door - understanding that it might raise suspicions for them to all be grouped there together.

As Harry was about to make his own leave, giving one last, forlorn, glance at the closed bedroom door, he found his arm suddenly being held lightly by Draco. He hadn't even seen the other boy move, yet felt no urge to flinch in startlement. Probably because he needed to feed soon.

In any case, the area Draco was holding immediately flooded with the familiar tingling Harry now associated with feeding, as he automatically drained off excess sexual energy from the other boy. The light glow that had lightly encompassed his body slowly faded away, and Harry soon looked back to his reasonably ordinary self - luckily the glowing had been so slight none of the other's had picked up on it.

Confused by how quickly the glow had been satiated, Harry almost missed it when Draco spoke to him.

"Not you. You and me still need to go over the events of this evening."

Ignoring the uncomfortable urge to gulp like a nervous idiot, Harry obediently watched as his friends exited the room in cautious groups of two or three. Checking the coast was clear before they each slipped out, so as to avoid any curious Slytherins.

Eventually it was just him and Draco - the closed bedroom door completely soundproof, and masking any of the crying Harry thought to be going on within.

Watching Draco's movements with a veiled gaze, Harry slowed down his breathing and ignored his racing pulse. This was Draco he was with! There was no need to be so nervous. Still, sneaking a glance at Draco's angry expression, Harry decided it was probably wise to be slightly cautious.

Sitting down on one of Draco's armchairs, Harry realised his mistake a second too late, as he suddenly found himself hemmed in by Draco.

Propping his hands on the arms of the comfy chair, Draco slowly leaned in until Harry had no where else to look but at him. Taking a deep breath to control his temper, Draco steadfastly ignored the effect those wary green eyes were having on him.

"So…mind telling me what you were doing in the dungeons in the first place? You were gone far longer than it would take for you to just 'stumble across' Diana. I know this for a fact, as I noticed you were missing a whole hour before you came for help!"

Squirming in his seat, Harry _tried_ to lie to Draco, but one sharp glance from those silvery eyes and he found himself spilling the whole story.

"…So I just happened across the room after I escaped. I heard her crying, and I went to see what was going on."

Managing a casual shrug, Harry downplayed the incident, and was quite pleased he'd managed to be vague over _how_ he managed to escape from the cage. The fact that Draco was now giving him a highly suspicious look barely registered, as the stretched veela tried to analyse his newfound honesty with a clinical mind - something that was proving next to impossible at the moment, especially when his mind kept helpfully pointing out how nice and warm Draco felt, even from this distance.

"Okay, now my next question…"

Dragging his attention away from Draco's cloth-covered chest, Harry raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the hesitating blond.

Looking back at Harry, Draco's eyes glittered suspiciously.

"Why weren't you going to tell me that you'd been kidnapped? And why were you so…stupid! I mean, for crying out loud, Harry - sure, you killed Voldemort, but you _know_ he still has followers around and they're still after you, and yet you deliberately snuck out of the room on your own! Were you trying to get yourself killed!"

Face twisting in anguish, Draco quickly dropped his eyes down to Harry's knees, but not before one lone tear trailed down his cheek. Flabbergasted, Harry froze, not sure how to handle this situation.

That Draco was scared for Harry's safety wasn't something the dark-haired boy had ever really thought about, even with their newfound truce. Harry had just assumed Draco's extra vigilance were a part of the boy that he normally kept covered up, or even because he felt obligated to protect the boy-wonder. To actually _want_ to keep Harry from harm though…? No, that wasn't something he'd expected the blond to feel.

Tentatively resting his hand on Draco's shoulder, Harry could feel the tension radiating from the silent boy. Trying to figure out how to comfort the kneeling figure, Harry eventually resorted to how he'd act if it were Ron or Hermione crying over his actions.

Apologising; "I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Explaining; "I just felt it wasn't something that needed to be discussed - it happened, and…I'm fine! You know? I didn't get hurt or anything, and its over now. Besides, telling people what happened would only have upset people and made them more paranoid than they are already - which is the main reason I snuck away like I did."

Pausing for breath, Harry noted Draco was now looking at him - confused, but no longer crying.

"I'm not good with so much attention. And the constant company…I needed to get away, be on my own for a while. I know - it didn't turn out so well! But, even locked in a cage felt better than being guarded like some…sacred relic or something!"

Feeling his old feelings of frustration beginning to rise again, Harry quickly cut off his train of thought. The last thing he needed to do was lead Draco to believe he was going to wander off again - he'd probably end up hog-tied in a cupboard somewhere, with the entire circle guarding the entrance.

"So, anyway, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to get into trouble, and it won't happen again. No more wandering off alone for me!"

Still trying to treat Draco like he would Ron and Hermione, Harry reached forward and gave the still-silent boy a hug.

However, unlike with Ron and Hermione, their hugs never turned into a kiss.

Sitting bolt upright, with his eyes wide open, Harry wondered how the hell that happened. Feeling Draco's hands rise up and rest on his shoulders, Harry was tensed to pull away, until he felt Draco's lips moving gently against his own.

A stirring in Harry's mind sent a bolt of lust through his body, and he found himself relaxing into Draco's touch, mouth opening to receive Draco's dominating tongue. A low rumble of approval fed into Draco's mouth, even as Harry fought with beast inside of him.

Just as Harry was gaining ground over the urge to devour Draco, he felt one of the blond's hands lift to slide into his hair.

Draco's hands gently slid through Harry's hair, ruffling it slightly and tugging Harry closer. The beast now firmly in control, Harry moved on to Draco's neck. At the sweet sigh from the other boy, all precautions in Harry's head shut down, and he bit.

Understanding flashed through the child hero as soon as the blood touched his tongue, and he tore his mouth away from the pliant neck. The beast within him roaring its outrage.

Staring at Draco's expression of languorous contentment, Harry felt another jolt of attraction tear through him - not helped in the slightest by the fact that Draco's eyes had gone a very light grey, with a thread of gold running around their outer rim - a look Harry recognised from somewhere, and found highly sexy. The bemused blond was still too caught up in the kiss to realise he was staring at Harry with affection, something Harry knew hadn't occurred since they'd gone slightly further than a kiss.

Although the exact happenings were a bit blurry, due to Harry's 'condition' at the time, he was perfectly capable of remembering the difference between Draco when he'd first stumbled across Harry in the bathroom, and afterwards. The difference being the amount of emotion Draco had shown him. In fact, his reaction to Harry's reckless behaviour had to be the only time he'd shown him something other than lukewarm friendship.

Confusion running like a rampant rabbit through Harry's torn mind, he realised rather belatedly that Draco had overcome his befuddlement, and was looking at Harry with eyes that were once more a darker grey.

Staring right back at him, it took Harry a moment to find his voice.

"You're going to keep hiding from me?"

His tone of calm detachment was apparently obvious to Draco, given the number of slow blinks the other boy indulged in while he tried to figure out what to say, or how to react.

"Hide?" Honest puzzlement filled the grey eyes, and yet they remained the same, dark, colour.

"Ah, you've decided to go for the puzzled denial. Good choice by the way - but not good enough."

Frowning slightly in concentration, Harry slowly lifted his right hand. Focusing on the limb until it began to glow, he then reached out to touch a carefully-still Draco's cheek. Letting Draco feel a little of his hunger.

"The Light showed me many things. Death - yes. But so much more besides. It showed me the end…and it showed me you."

He let that sink in for a moment, then abruptly withdrew his hand - glow dimming down. "So tell me if you don't want this - but don't give me half of yourself, just because you don't think you should refuse me, or whatever crap you keep telling yourself! I'm done being played with."

"Harry…!"

Jumping to his feet, Draco tried to grab Harry as the other boy made his way to the door, but he was easily evaded.

"One thing you might want to think on, Draco - the Death Eaters know what I am now, and they have Ginny…who knows who else they have?"

Refusing to look back, Harry left the Slytherin's rooms, knowing for sure now that what Dumbledore had told him was true. Draco Malfoy - leader of the Circle of Light - was his mate. Blood didn't lie.

And so, by refusing to look back, Harry missed seeing the torn expression on his ex-rivals face…or the white-grey eyes which glinted with golden tears.

Chapter 31 : Shattered masks - part one

Idly tapping on his book, Ron smiled distractedly at his girlfriend as she exclaimed over something of interest she'd found, before running off to cross-reference it to another book.

Girlfriend. One of the many problems he was currently juggling with, Ron was torn between grinning like a buffoon and frowning in concern - which led to him smiling when expected, with a distracted air. Neither fully participating, nor fully excluding himself.

Pansy had noticed of course, she was far too clever to not have, but she understood, to some extent, what the problem was, and was content to let him work it through on his own.

He'd never anticipated having a girlfriend. As he had when he was a child, Ron had difficulty interacting with people his age. Sure, his mask of Ron Weasley - slightly dim, loyal, good fun - enabled him to blend in with others in school, but never actually gain any proper friends. It was different with Harry and Hermione though; they were both a lot older than their age as well, and even when he'd been playing Ron Weasley he'd still found it…easier around them.

When Ron had first approached Pansy he'd allowed his mask to slip, in order to prove to her he was who he said he was - he'd let her see Agent 09321, and now he had no idea what to do.

Even if his superiors approved his girlfriend, or, even better, allowed her entry to Cotsden herself, he'd be asking Pansy to live a triple life. She already held her Circle personality separate from her school persona, if she did join the society she'd have yet another manufactured facet to hide. And if she didn't, she'd still have to put up with him having different facets; pieces of himself he could show her in private, which he couldn't show in public.

Ignoring the personal problems for now though, Ron was having trouble with his mission.

New orders had asked he generate possible scenarios, now that; Voldemort was dead, Fudge was dead, Harry was half veela, and the Death Eaters already had a new leader.

Normally, that would be easy for someone like Ron to do - unfortunately, whilst the number of pivotal events that had occurred would normally provide an even more accurate picture of what was to come, the number of unknown elements had also increased. Rapidly, and in too short a space of time. This indicated detailed planning, and other than generating some rather dire events, Ron had eventually been forced to backtrack and try to map out the events which had led up to this moment.

Now his contact was running three minutes late, which for anyone else would be negligent, but for this person in particular was dire.

"09321. 09326 reporting."

Shifting his eyes to the right, Ron casually moved the book towards the middle of the desk in the same motion.

Opaque brown eyes met his own, questioning, gaze, and a sooty eyebrow lifted on smooth chocolate skin - enquiring how much time they had.

"Five minutes, so make it fast."

Chuckling slightly at the brusque tone, Dean Thomas nevertheless acceded to the orders of a higher ranking agent.

"New orders from head office have me making my own in-roads. At the moment I'm still in information gathering mode. Went into effect two days after you were given clearance. So far; Ginny, Seamus, Daffodil, Brian and Andrew from Gryffindor. Diana, Millicent, Avril, Harriet, Stephanie, and the two heavies, from Slytherin. I haven't managed to find any definite supporters in the other houses yet, although there are a lot of people who owe _favours_."

"That doesn't sound good."

Grimacing at Ron's over-simplification, Dean let his professional mask slip slightly, showing intelligence and true fear for the first time in the meeting.

"You've got that right. I was late because Seamus was asking questions. Not just about me - about all of you. Damnit, we _need_ people of our own in that nest - instead they're practically weeding us out in our own houses, and the one spy the Order have is pregnant!"

"Huh?" Gaping for a minute, 09321 quickly shrugged off his persona, translating the gawping into helpful questions. "Is it only us who know that? You'd think Bill would choose a better time for fatherhood! When you report to Cotsden tell them I recommend all our sleepers be woken. From the sounds of it we'll need them."

"Yeah, that was my own recommendation, but I'll be sure to add your seal of approval to it."

Rubbing a hand across his jaw, Dean darted a sloe-eyed glance down the aisles, able to make out his friend and co-spy's new girlfriend making her way back. Five minutes almost up.

"As for knowing - so far even 'mum'-to-be is unaware, merely suspicious. Agents' 04832 and 05260 in the Order are aware of course, but they have no orders to interfere, and are instead focused on keeping track of the Order's actions and information - no clearance to reveal themselves as of yet, due to Dumbledore's reticence even with his true agents. I'll be using Granger as my contact point, and use her to help run interference against Seamus. Other than her, my status will be secret. Stop tying your mind in riddles, musing about your girlfriend - enjoy it for what it is now, and make damn sure it doesn't interfere with your mission,"

"And I really hope your brain managed to come up with something Cotsden can use, otherwise we may all die."

Mumbling the last under his breath, Dean swiftly rose from his seat - casually sliding the book Ron had been playing with earlier into his hand - and was gone from sight mere moments before Pansy stepped into view.

Eagerly waving her find at her boyfriend, Pansy was quick to accept his offer of a lap to sit on, and immediately launched into an explanation of why it was important to have a muggle knowledge of physics. Giggling, when Ron suddenly tightened his arms around her waist and brushed a kiss against her neck.

Chapter 32 : Shattered masks - part two

The room was dark. Sparse, but what furnishings it had were obviously expensive. Dark walnut wood, and rich reds with muted greens, provided the theme of the room.

Flickering torches in sconces on the walls provided the only illumination, and as a result shadows were rife throughout the chamber.

A large bed took priority in the room, positioned dead centre, and that which first drew the eye upon entry - a four poster, with billowing sheets of material falling in drapes from the top: reminiscent of an older design. Rumpled black sheets resembled inky water, and continued the room's theme of slinky, sinuous shadows.

Amongst the covers lay a young girl. The ivory perfection of her skin stood out in contrast to the sheets, giving her the appearance of bleached bone. Smooth, adolescent limbs were sprawled shamelessly in slumber, and this pleased him.

Going to the bed, he was intent on rewarding her for the picture she made…until he found something that spoiled it.

Her face, slack in slumber; cruel blue eyes hidden by thick lashes, and perfect pink lips no longer pulled into a practised pout… - ruined!

Marring her perfection, an angry red wound, running from her left eyebrow to end, just to the right of that normally-so-perfect mouth. The blatant evidence of something, of someone, daring to scar…spoil…_desecrate_ that which was his…

The anger boiled up in him as it always did.

"It was Potter, my Lord. We were lucky to escape with our lives. The others were not."

The hasty voice reminded him of the outer world, and - calming the trembling mirrors with but a thought - he turned to assess the young worshipper's body with a critical eye. "You are unharmed."

A shiver racked her body once before she brought herself under control. She had done nothing worthy of punishment - yet. Not that that had ever saved her from it before.

"He recognised her. It must have enraged him; with the others he went to kill…her he intended to destroy. His distraction enabled me to activate the portkey, but also cost us this wound. - It can be healed, my Lord."

"True…"

Dismissing the mere acolyte from his mind, he returned to her side. Avoiding the harsh mark, his gaze traced the slender, half-formed, lines of her body with a kind of reverence. This was his. To touch, to mark…and, yes, to heal.

Ginny was roused with a gentle touch, and her lips immediately formed her practised, beautific, smile. The fact that it never reached her eyes didn't matter to him. It was enough.

As her dark red hair blended further with the black of the sheets, he leaned over her - bending to whisper in her ear. As he always did.

"You're grateful, aren't you, Ginny? He couldn't save you, now, could he, hmm? Couldn't give you what I have?"

Lean white hands traced her flesh, searching for any more imperfections through touch alone. He liked to touch his possessions.

"You were sooo clever, thinking up a way for us both to survive. Who'd have thought - me, feeding off of my future self, would not only give me the power I needed to come back, it would also give me the power and knowledge to avoid falling into the same trap Voldemort did…and give me you as well."

Green eyes glinted maliciously, and a velvet grin crossed his face, as Tom Riddle taunted his mental image of Harry bloody Potter. Uncaring who saw or heard what he said. Afterall - he was powerful enough that nobody could do or say anything against him. More powerful than he'd ever imagined.

"He was too late, that _precious_ hero. You gave up thoughts of rescue and turned to survival - all thanks to _him!_"

"Umm…my Lord…?"

Hesitating at the foreign feeling of being interrupted mid-rant, Tom absently noted the strained feeling of contained magic weighing oppressively in the air, as the cloaking field he'd had Malfoy create struggled to hide the magic welling due to his anger.

"Yesss?"

The hiss was barely recognisable as a civilised question, and Millicent immediately cursed her runaway tongue. Now she could only hope her information was enough to distract him.

"Potter isn't human anymore. Before he attacked us his eyes went white…and he growled…and, well, his magic…he just didn't _feel_ human anymore. He tore through the cage like it was paper!"

"Really?" Tom's sitting up abruptly gifted Millicent with a view of the Weaslette once more.

Gasping for breath, the naked girl's face was once more flawless - courtesy of the insane Lord who'd claimed her as his own - and was yet another reason why Millicent hated her, as if having her Lord's favour wasn't enough, the damn girl had so enamoured the Dark Lord that he wanted to make her his Lady. And legally as well! The Dark Lord was trying to destroy the wizarding world and create a new order, and yet he was still waiting 'til the Weaslette was old enough to marry him!

Ignoring the way the sight of those bared limbs made her own breath hitch in her chest, Millicent refused to acknowledge she herself could see the allure of the girl, and determinedly turned her attention back to the elegant creature perched on the edge of the massive bed.

Long fingered hands toyed absently with the open throat of his black shirt, and the tailored black trousers showed the true origin of his feelings for the Death Eater in his bed.

"Well, that should certainly prove interesting."

Standing, Tom inspected Ginny's renewed looks with the air of an artist. Sly smile voiced his approval, and he quickly began shedding his clothes - eager to reaffirm her ties to him.

Already half-forgetting about Millicent Bulstrode, he absently called over his bare shoulder to her.

"Inform the others that we attack Hogwarts in two days. The Ministry is in complete disarray thanks to Fudge's death, and now is the time to put the Order in disarray with Dumbledore's death. Put Lucius in charge of the main assault - he may finish what he started with his son last time, and I'll deal with the Potter brat once and for all. It should be good fun."

Bowing her head in an unseen gesture of obedience, Millicent headed for the door, doing her damnedest to pretend she had no clue what they were doing on the bed behind her.

As soon as the solid wood door clicked shut, Ginny let loose the moan that had been building in her throat. Chuckling slightly at the sign of her continuing modesty, Tom trailed his hands down her feather-soft skin, intent on eliciting more of the grudgingly-given sounds of appreciation.

Sensing that his Lady was reaching the end, he hurried up the pace - all attention narrowing down to the person he was with. The movements she made, the way her cheeks flushed with blood and her cold skin heated with passion. Most of all though, he delighted in the way her determined blue eyes clouded over - a true sign that he had power over her here as well.

As soon as she began arching up, crying out her release, he bore down on her. Sinking his retractable fangs into the delicate skin of her neck. Injecting his particular poison into her blood, soon her cries of satisfaction were transformed into screams of pain.

Letting her body writhe in pain - her own nails inflicting damage on her frail body - Tom withdrew and settled down to watch as the agony morphed her beauty into something beyond that. Brought her cold shell to life in a way no amount of pleasure ever could.

As the pain ebbed, Ginny calmed once more, the remainder of her orgasm taking the edge off and making her eyes close in languorous contentment.

Idly licking one of his fangs clean of blood, Tom Riddle allowed himself to feel some satisfaction - afterall; the ultimate way of controlling someone may be through pain, but, in order to have a true consort, you needed to be able to balance it out with pleasure. So that, eventually, your chosen one came to crave the combination only you can provide. And _that_, was the work of a _true_ artist.

Chapter 33 : Danger Rising

Following his instinct for information - that which had first brought him to Cotsden's attention - Dean Thomas had been spending the last couple of days keeping a very close eye on Sirius and Remus. Something which was actually quite hard to do since both were currently hiding around the school, and he wasn't supposed to even know about their presence there.

Unfortunately, the information Dean had been able to give his superiors - coupled with Ron's own estimations and recommendations - hadn't yielded any good news. Cotsden was unsurprised, and had even gone so far as to admit it had been anticipating something of the sort, so, with this further support, it had put all agents on alert and made them all activate their tracking signals.

'Accidentally' bumping into Hermione a few times per day, Dean had imparted as much information as he could to the brainbox - knowing that it would be enough to make her suspicious about his own allegiances, and sources.

Which was how, after spying on Sirius and Remus for a while, Dean found himself wondering if it was time to break the news to Hermione.

Just as he was about to go though, something interesting finally happened.

"…So, you thought I was interested in Snape…?" Clearly Remus' voice.

"Well, yeah. I mean…you're always sticking up for him, and I just thought…"

"Wrong! You obviously didn't think. I am not, nor have ever been, interested in Severus. He's in a relationship with Bill, for crying out loud - he's pregnant, you imbecile!"

Ah. So somebody had apparently figured it out. 'Bout time.

"Wha…? Why wasn't he taking precautions…Hey! - _you_ didn't know he was pregnant anymore than I did, you accused me of doing something to him, remember?"

Dean heard an exasperated sigh come from Remus, but it was the following 'thud' and abrupt silence that then fell which triggered the radar on Dean's spy-sensor like a red, blaring, siren. More concerned for the moment that something bad may have befallen them, than about his cover, Dean shifted from his position against the wall - again, noting the faint tingle of castle magic that indicated a recent change had been made to the castle structure.

Peeking through a gap in the door to the room he'd finally tracked the two down to, Dean paused a moment. Blinked. Blushed. And hastily backed away from the door.

Okay, yep, they've figured out they like each other then. Good.

Deciding that nothing major was going to happen with those two anytime soon - other than stuff Dean definitely didn't need to know about - he quickly made his way to Gryffindor tower to find Hermione.

Only one more turn away from his destination, the dark-skinned boy turned a corner and almost fell over an ex-fakefriend. 'Ex' because he was now a Death Eater, and 'fakefriend' because Dean, unlike Ron, was more interested in his position in Cotsden than making school friends.

"Hey, Seamus - what are you doing here?"

Allowing a slight frown to crease his normally-ambivalent face, Dean easily left the persona of 09326 behind, and switched gears to that of a friendly acquaintance. The greeting and question perfectly phrased to suit such a mask.

"Just walking. Where've you been, Dean? You've been around a lot less than normal…I miss us hanging out together."

The persistent tone in Seamus' voice, coupled with the hard light in his eyes alerted Dean to the fact that something was wrong. Either the Death Eaters had been ordered to move, in which case an attack was imminent, or Seamus had somehow figured out what Dean was, or thought he'd figured out what Dean was - any of which meant that the other boy was now spoiling for a fight of some kind.

"I've been working on something that's very important to me, that's all. And, actually, it seems to finally be coming together. I should be seeing some definition results soon." Taking some satisfaction in the abrupt unease that flashed through the red-head's eyes at the way he phrased that, Dean decided it would be worth scaring the paranoid Death Eater a bit more.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone, but…given how close it is to coming together…I'm trying to get Hermione to go out with me."

Pretending to take Seamus' relief as support, he continued - laughing lightly to further dispel the other boy's worry.

"Yeah, I know - it seems impossible, doesn't it? But I've been working harder lately, spending more time with her, talking with her about stuff. I'm just on my way up to ask. I think she might actually say yes. Say, do you know if she is up there? Otherwise I'll have to go trailing around the school looking for her, and I might wimp out by then!"

"Uh, yeah…yeah, she's right up there. Reading. I'll let you get to it then, but - remember Dean, don't be a stranger!"

Hearing the minute warning, Dean plastered a friendly smile to his face and turned to casually continue on his way. As soon as he deemed Seamus was far enough away though, he started flat-out running.

Pounding up the stairs, uncaring of the noise he was making, Dean barely spared the thought to be glad no-one else was about. Gasping out the password, he helped the portrait to open, then bolted to the fireplace - skidding to a stop at Hermione's feet.

Looking up from her book at the gasping person who'd just raced over to her, Hermione's expression instantly morphed from enjoyment to that of worry.

"…Dean!"

Jumping up, the brainy girl immediately tried to get him to sit down, asking what was wrong, and did he need water?

"Hermione." Stopping her talk with a firm word, Dean carefully put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

"The Death Eaters are scrambling…there's going to be an attack on Hogwarts. Now! I'm with Cotsden - Ron can verify that - and I need to contact my superiors. Whilst I'm doing that, I strongly suggest you inform your own people."

Covering the hands on her shoulders with her own, Hermione didn't seem aware of her action as she put her fast brain to use processing the deluge of information. Studying her down-turned face for a clue, Dean waited as patiently as he dared for her to decide on her course of action, but was very aware of the quick passage of time.

"How do you know?"

Deep brown eyes snapped up to meet his, asking for his own verification of who he was, as well as information relevant to the immediate crisis.

Smiling slightly, Dean didn't bother hiding the wry expression from her. Afterall, she had, in effect, just asked to be introduced to Cotsden agent 09326, and for that Dean needed to drop his mask.

"Seamus. One of the few Death Eaters in Gryffindor, I was just witness to him going somewhere in an uncharacteristic hurry. In short conversation with him he appeared anxious, suspicious and eager. I therefore drew the conclusion he had either become aware of my own standing, or there was an attack imminent. He did not call me on my status as an agent, therefore I believe it would be prudent for us to proceed as though an attack were pending. Better safe than sorry and all that."

Smiling slightly in reply, Hermione appeared to relax briefly, before snapping back into efficient-mode.

Moving back to the chair she'd been sat on before he'd entered, Dean watched, confused, as she reached out with one hand and delicately touched the cover of the book.

For a minute he was worried she'd snapped, but, as a dusky pink glow began to emanate from her hand where it touched the book, Dean realised he was finally witnessing a member of the Circle using their power. Though, what kind of power you could have associated with a book, he couldn't work out.

"There," A brief, satisfied, look darted across her focused face, before Hermione sobered once more. "I just alerted as many members of the Circle as I could reach. They will ensure the message is passed along. Draco wants you to come with me to meet him, and once all the bases have been covered you can contact your superiors. Our priority right now is to secure the school as much as possible."

Acceding to her demand, Dean mentally acknowledged the fact that the delay in contacting his own superiors would be unacceptable, were it not for the fact that he knew she was manipulating it in such a way that action could be taken quickly, and his claims verified by Ron in the process.

Chapter 34 : Stone, a prison maketh

"…Remember; once the spell is cast, only true Death Eaters will be able to leave the castle, so if your prey runs - don't be a fool and lower your guard to chase it, just let it run as far as it can, then go and fetch it."

The strident voice of Lucius Malfoy caused several of the cloaked Death Eaters to tremble slightly. Obvious amateurs, since at any other time, such a sign of weakness would have drawn the man's attention like a vulture to death. Luckily for those few, Lucius was currently occupied with thoughts of family honour and revenge.

That son of his would soon pay the price for being a freak, and daring to _lie_ about it to him - and as for Harry Potter, the nerve of the boy for stopping Lucius from killing his son, well…the boy was lucky Tom wanted to take care of him personally. Still, if the boy somehow managed to escape his Lord again, Lucius would take extreme pleasure in rectifying that - nevermind the punishment he might face afterwards for depriving his Lord of the chance.

Gesturing to a number of Death Eaters to the right, the head of the Malfoy family watched impassively as they obediently peeled off from the rest. Merlin, but he loved the feeling of power he'd had since his Lord had delegated more responsibility to his most loyal follower!

"You lot are to cast, anchor and protect the spell," Nodding to another portion of Death Eaters, he quickly issued the rest of the orders. "All of you have to take care of anybody in the House room's; peel off amongst yourselves and search each House. Once that is done you are to patrol the corridors, and search out any other students or teachers."

"The rest of us will take the Great Hall, where everyone, barring our younger Death Eaters, will be readying for dinner. Everyone is to be destroyed. I will personally deal with Draco and the Headmaster. The Potter brat is our Lord's - everyone else is free game. But! No playing with them - our aim is to be fast and deadly, no-one is to survive. Understood?"

Silent nods were issued, with a few eager ones calling out agreement, only to be hastily silenced by their companions.

"Good." Nodding his satisfaction, Lucius looked over to where his Lord was standing, with his future 'Lady' by his side.

Feeling a slight shiver of his own at Ginny Weasley's cold blue eyes raking him from head to toe, as his Lord gave his own, approving, nod, Lucius hastily decided he was going to have to get in the 'Lady's' good books before she truly rose up in the ranks - otherwise it looked highly likely that his own recent rise in status would be taken away.

With barely a hushed murmur, the cowled group of killers began their descent on Hogwarts. Moving out from the cover of the forbidden forest like a swarm of black ants.

Luckily, the way around the castle's wards had been discovered early on - through a favour one of the Death Eater students had managed to bargain out of a brainy Ravenclaw. In exchange for the chasing-cage spell they had recently developed, the Death Eater had gained the use of the Ravenclaw's impressive brain in figuring out the wards. As it turned out the boy had seen a similar ward before, and the way around it was to have someone who was accepted by the ward hold onto the person who wasn't accepted, and pass through the ward together.

Once that had been done, the other person was accepted by the wards and able to pass through them whenever they wanted.

Of course, as soon as that had been known, the Dark Lord had had the Death Eater students take all of the Death Eaters' through the wards with them. By doing this over the course of a week, in small groups, it had been incredibly easy to hide the activity - and meant they didn't have the wards to worry about for the main attack.

Grimacing slightly at the misty rain that had begun to fall, Lucius tried to ignore the fact that his cloak was now getting damp, and just hoped the whole 'creep forward-stop-creep forward' method of movement would get them to the castle fast enough that he could avoid getting his shoes muddy.

The main door to the castle opened soundlessly, and the trio of scouts sent ahead soon returned and motioned that the entry was clear.

Once inside the echoing entry hall, Lucius did his best to ignore the feeling of awe and envy he always associated with Hogwarts, with its walls which practically vibrated with magic. Afterall - if all went to plan, soon Lucius would be living in Hogwarts himself and bending that innate magic to his own will - a fitting reward for exemplary service Tom Riddle had decided, and the fact that it was Lucius' innermost desire didn't hurt any either.

Standing in the centre of the hallway, the pivotal spell-casters began a guttural chant: practised flicks of their wands interspersed with the words in a, seemingly random, pattern.

Almost immediately the spell began to take effect - a silent upheaval from outside made the air practically vibrate with pressure, and - looking out the still-open door - the Dark Lord was satisfied to see a huge stone wall rise up and block everything from view. Soon the entire castle was encased in a stone cage, its giant grasp causing everything, from windows to cracks in the walls, being blocked. No way in, and no way out…unless you happened to be a bad guy.

Knowing how important it was that the spell be replenished on a regular basis, due to how large a thing it was covering, several of the Death Eaters circled the spell-casters and stood guard. Ensuring no tampering could be done to the original spell.

Next to peel off was the group of Death Eaters the elder Malfoy had singled out earlier. Drifting like black wraiths they slid out of sight; up the stairs, down to the dungeons, and around the branching corridors - seeking out the different houses and silencing anybody they might find.

Steadily the main group headed for the ultimate target of the Great Hall - in no hurry, since no one knew what was about to happen. Several latecomers were dispatched easily. No need for wands yet, when a quick grasp and twist dealt with them easily enough. These were the runts; they wanted to conserve their energy for the Professors.

Grabbing for the cleverest student they'd run into so far: one who actually knew enough to run - Lucius took great pleasure in throttling her neck. Watching with hungry eyes as her face turned a mottled purple and she tried to claw his hands off her, Lucius felt the same thrill of adrenaline he always did upon committing violent acts. However, the girl suddenly stopped fighting for breath and appeared to focus on something else.

Angry at her seeming dismissal of his actions and her imminent death, Lucius gave her a harsh shake. Rolling her brown eyes back in his direction, the girl almost appeared amused for a moment, and the Death Eater watched in bewilderment as her dull brown eyes suddenly froze over.

Lucius realised a couple of minutes later that they hadn't in fact frozen over - that instead they had rapidly changed to a frosty light blue colour - but he was too stunned to move, and could only stand there, staring, as the girl's hands suddenly turned into razor-sharp claws and tore chunks out of his own, pristine, hands.

Loosening his hold in pain, but managing not to cry out, Lucius registered his Lord's angry command for him to kill the girl and reacted to it - but was too slow to prevent the girl from letting loose a loud howl in the brief moment that her throat was free.

As the girl's body convulsed one last time, Lucius hastily yanked his dagger out of her stomach and wiped the blood off on her uniform. Darting a hesitant gaze in Tom's direction, Lucius was unsurprised to see an expression of cold fury on the man's face. What did surprise him was the lack of immediate punishment…then again, now really wasn't the time for Tom to lose any of his troops, especially since their arrival had just been so obviously announced.

Chapter 35 : Facing Fears - part one

As the howl began to fade, Draco moved from his frozen position by the fireplace. Recognising the pain, rage, and half-stifled 'fuck-you' attitude in-laid into the sound, the Circle leader cursed at losing such a talented member.

"Dana, can you locate where Sabre was just now?"

Looking up from the chest she was currently rifling through, a girl with shocking blue hair and dark brown eyes nodded in response. Abandoning her current task immediately, Dana set herself aside from the piece of storage and assumed a cross-legged position on the floor.

Brown eyes turned white, and her piercings glinted slightly in the dim lighting of Draco's common room, as the Gryffindor searched for Sabre's location immediately before her death.

"Next to the landscape painting of Harbour Point - five corridors from the Great Hall."

"Right, looks like we've run out of time to prepare." Moving over to the couch, Draco gestured for all the Circle members gathered to join him.

"Lucy; as head healer it's your job to organise and prepare those who can't fight to look after any injured. Stay hidden - we want to avoid as many injuries and fatalities as possible."

Nodding her understanding, the short, brown-haired girl studied the floor with her eyes, and clutched at her own arms briefly, as if chilled.

Next was Blaise. "Send out all the fighters now, and use Hermione or one of the others' to alert those that are already in the Great Hall - just in case Sabre's death scream wasn't enough."

"Pansy…" Shaking his head slightly, Draco sighed and moved away from the couch. The other Circle members accepted that the two main points had been dealt with and moved away to do their jobs; fight and heal.

Coming to a halt in front of the stubborn blond, Draco rested his hands on her shoulders and let her see for a moment how worn down he really was - eyes lightening to an odd silvery-blue. "I know you want to help, Panse. But, honestly, the most you can do is interrogate the Death Eaters we come across. I'm willing to let you do that, and help us pinpoint where exactly they are - but when it comes to fighting, you must, _must_ back away. If any come after you, use your powers of persuasion to distract them and retreat! Understood?"

Darting a reluctant look at his face, her blue eyes closed briefly in minor defeat as she nibbled slightly at her lips.

"Okay - but I want you to know I'm only agreeing so I don't put any extra stress on you, and I disagree with your orders."

"Agreed." Draco allowed a wry smile to quirk his lips. "You disagree with my orders, now scram."

As soon as the bubbly Slytherin had merged with her fellow Circle members, the blonde-haired leader turned to the most mysterious pair of spies he'd ever met…which was saying something.

"What do you make of the situation?"

Sharing an unreadable glance with his equally inscrutable colleague, Ron Weasley, or, 09321, as he'd introduced himself, appeared to be searching for the right words.

"This scenario was one of the approximations I sent my superiors. I managed to generate this specific approximation following the belief that Voldemort's replacement had been planning to replace Voldemort for a long time. That he was an unknown degree more powerful than the Dark Lord ever was. And that he is actually more aware of the placement of the players in this game than Dumbledore is…"

"Basically," Dean interrupted smoothly - the facade he'd worn throughout the years dropping away to reveal the dryly sarcastic person which lurked beneath. "What Ron here is saying, is that this is bad news, and we could, very possibly, be extremely screwed."

As Ron made a noise of disagreement, Dean quickly continued.

"Oh yeah, but don't worry - because Ron also believes your Circle's degree of power is unknown to this newcomer, and he is still unaware of the fact that Cotsden is still a player - much less that it has any active members in Hogwarts."

Wrestling the analysis from Dean, Ron finished as positively as he could under the circumstances.

"Therefore, whilst the new bad guy is more powerful than the last, and may be justified in the confidence with which he is now attacking us head-on - he _is_ still underestimating our own power, and, if handled carefully, we may be able to turn this attack into an ambush on him - and kill him."

"Right." Eyeing them both dubiously for a moment, another flare of pain in his head reminded Draco that lives were at stake.

"Okay, Ron, I would really appreciate it if you'd lend your strategic skills to Blaise - you can stay out of the fighting as much as possible if you wish, although any input in that direction would also be appreciated, but it would really help if you'd help him to organise the troops - and free him up to kill more 'bad guys' as well."

"Sure - that is what I'm here for after all. Dean here can probably help more in the area of searching out Death Eaters and possible escape routes, as that's more his area of expertise."

"Great you two, that would really help. I have to go…"

"…find Harry, yes, we know."

Blinking over at the two who'd just spoken in synchrony, Draco didn't bother trying to hide the unnerved expression on his face. And, mumbling about insane spies who saw too much, he quickly made his way across the room to where the dark-headed boy in question was organising bandages and medicine into the rucksacks that had been turned into medical kits, with the intent Hermione working at his side.

A quick exchange of glances, and Hermione was on her feet, moving away with a murmured excuse that she was needed elsewhere - leaving Harry staring after her with an amused look on his face, before turning to face Draco.

"You know, for a spy, she's really not very good at being subtle."

"Only when she's around people she knows she can trust." Seeing the pleased flush that appeared on Harry's cheeks, Draco wondered over how quickly a situation could go awkward.

Remembering the last time he and Harry had been on their own, and the abrupt way in which the other boy had departed, Draco swore to himself he would avoid that landmine for the moment.

"Before we go and help the others in taking out the Death Eaters on the fringes, there's something which I and another believe you have a right to know." Harry's green eyes darted up to look at him, and the spread of colour on his skin disappeared as his attention was sufficiently diverted elsewhere.

"Now, bearing in mind this information is classified in the extreme, I'm hoping you won't get too mad about it."

Swallowing briefly, Draco momentarily debated the wisdom of dropping a bombshell this big on Harry right now, but a golden pulse in his head prompted him on. "You already know your Godfather made it back from behind the veil, and you were fobbed off with the same story Dumbledore told everyone - that he didn't die, he just wandered around for a few days trying to find the exit,"

"That's a lie. Your Godfather _did_ visit the 'land of the dead', or whatever you want to call it - but, because it wasn't a proper death, so to speak, he was able to teleport out of there. Dumbledore is aware of Sirius' ability to teleport, but he is unaware of where this ability comes from. Sirius told him it was genetic - which was also a lie. A lie he told on my orders."

Bracing himself, Draco forced himself to look Harry in the eye and tell him the plain truth. "Your Godfather is a member of the Circle, and, as with all adult members, I have hidden his true allegiances from Dumbledore so that he, along with everyone else, believes Circle members can only be children, and therefore misjudges the Circle's influence."

Harry laughed.

Gradually the full-blown laughter died down, and the 'boy-who-lived' grabbed Draco by the wrist to drag him towards the entrance. Apparently having deemed that enough time had been wasted on such a petty thing as 'coming clean'.

"Draco, when I was accepted by the Circle I told you I'd seen 'death'. And I did - but that's not all I saw. I also said I saw you - and I did. But, again, that's not all I saw. I also saw every member of the Circle. I saw their powers, their feelings for others…so much."

Frowning briefly, Harry's green eyes drifted away from the boy in his grasp, focusing on something in the distance.

"Too much…" Abruptly remembering his destination, he continued talking. "I already _know _about Sirius; what he is, how he feels for Remus, and most important of all - how loyal he is to you. So, you need to stop acting like you're about to break my heart and focus more on what actually needs doing."

So saying, Harry suddenly pushed Draco forward.

Hitting something fleshy and bouncing back off it, Draco looked up to see the black, faceless, head of a Death Eater.

Reacting with the lightening reflexes which had helped him gain the status of leader of the Circle, Draco kicked out with his foot, taking the Death Eater even more off-guard than his running into him had. Then, turning to the side, Draco whipped out a knife from the sheaf on his back and lunged forward - taking the bastard out with one stab.

Leaving the body in the middle of the corridor, Draco finally took note of where they were, and was rather surprised to note they were no-where near where the main battle would take place, and that they'd actually come quite a distance already.

The boy-wonder stepped lightly up to his side, and then carried on past, leaving Draco to gape at his back.

"Hey!"

Darting a look back, Draco saw two more motionless figures who Harry had obviously dealt with, and he also realised he had no idea where they were going, so hurried to catch up with the infuriating person in front of him.

"Where, exactly, are we going?"

An amused look was his immediate answer, but Draco failed to see the humour in the situation - especially as another throbbing stab took hold of his head, the sharper pain letting him know more of his people were down.

As Draco let out a small cry at the pain and bent over slightly, Harry immediately came to a stop and placed a soothing hand on his back - instantly realising what was wrong.

"I'm sorry - I forgot about your connection to them!" One look at Harry's remorseful face and Draco knew the other boy meant it. "Given their method of infiltrating Hogwarts, it is highly likely they have come up with a way to keep people from escaping the castle. The most likely place for such a spell to be wrought would, ideally, be the exact centre of Hogwarts - but, the next best place is the entrance. If Dean is to be successful in finding any escape routes, they will need to be freed up first, and to do that we need to go and take out the Death Eaters who are casting the spell."

"Agreed - but such a task is more fitting of a small group of my people. We're needed at the main figh…How did you know what Dean was doing?"

"Umm…" Looking suddenly sheepish, Harry waved a vague hand in the direction of his head. "Good hearing."

"Right." Letting it go for the moment, Draco ducked out of the way as Harry quickly snapped the neck of another Death Eater, and then they resumed walking.

"I'd suggest an alternative to your original, single-minded, plan."

"Single-minded…!"

"Yes - single-minded. Why don't we first find where this spell is being cast from - if indeed there is such a one - and then, once we know where it is. we can go to the Great Hall and send some of my people back to handle it, and take their place in the fighting. How does that sound - any better?"

Growling lightly, Harry began to walk faster. "Yes, fine! There's no need to rub in your 'superior' planning skills." Mumbling under his breath, "Show-off."

Smiling at how riled up he'd managed to get the young man, Draco calmly shoved his elbow back into the stomach of a 'stealthy' Death Eater - following it up with a swift knife through the throat - before continuing after the grumpy half-veela.

Afterall, given how worked-up Harry had left Draco a couple of days ago, turnabout was fair play - and now that Draco knew how Harry felt about him, he intended to get some of his own back.

Chapter 36 : Another puzzle, another piece

Miles and miles of grey stone. That was all Dean had seen for a while now. Well, that and a few cobwebs - no spiders though, oddly enough.

Shivering as yet another damp breeze washed over him, the Cotsden agent shot another glance at his companions.

Members of the Circle of Light whose powers either lent themselves to healing, or just weren't suited for fighting. Boys and girls of a variety of ages, from all the different houses, and yet all of them were still young enough to be considered children. All marching along at a cautious, yet hurried, pace; rucksacks filled with medicine and as much food as could be found, hastily slung over their backs.

The weary expressions on their faces aged them greatly, and worried the normally-sarcastic boy. Checking to see where Hermione had got to, Dean saw she'd gotten a bit ahead of him and quickened his speed to catch up.

Drawing level with her, he noted the grave cast to her features, and, from the way she insisted on marching ahead of the young boy called Martin - whose sole power appeared to be the ability to generate balls of light in his hands - Dean drew the conclusion that she'd slipped into ferocious 'mother' mode, and was fully prepared to die, or kill, for them.

"Is there an actual destination in mind, or are we just trying to get distance right now? Because, whilst I agree the dungeons have lots of escape routes in them, you seem pretty determined to have bypassed them all, and the others appear to be tiring already…which isn't a good thing."

Jerking her gaze to the left, Hermione appeared momentarily surprised to see him there, and Dean knew she'd been concentrating on whether anyone was coming from the front.

"We set up some safe places a while ago." Pausing as if internally debating something, Hermione then continued. "Draco became aware of the possibility of a frontal attack a while ago, and determined what actions we should take in such an event."

Brown eyes ran over him assessingly, and Dean automatically dropped any 'Dean' mannerisms he was still holding onto - letting her see all of his cynicism and intelligence.

"You're probably aware of this already, but Draco's ability is one of the more diverse of our kind's. He can use it in the form of pure power, which makes him an even stronger fighter than he is without it, and he can also use it to piece clues together. Innocuous bits of information are slowly gathered in his head, and then his power fits it all together - often filling in some of the gaps in order to create a complete picture,"

Pausing as she ran into a cobweb, Dean waited patiently as she pulled it off her face and then glanced round to check nobody else was listening - understanding that he was about to be told something not every member of the Circle knew about.

"When we first returned to Hogwarts after the holidays, Harry was already here, and…changed. In reaction to these changes, Dumbledore had placed some kind of wards around Harry's bed - keeping others out, as Ron no doubt informed Cotsden,"

"Well, when Harry went blind, Draco helped him to his room, and due to the fact he helped Harry onto the bed he was accepted by the wards and didn't get thrown across the room like Ron had. Then, one morning, Ron discovered a tie which didn't belong to anybody in your dorm. On Draco's orders to watch out for anything unusual, Neville stole the tie from under Ron's nose."

Realising he knew something about this, Dean butted in, "Yeah, Ron reported that to Cotsden. Before, I had been assigned to watch the other houses for suspicious activity, and Ron was to look out for Harry only - but, when that happened in the general area of the dorm, I received new orders to go over my own house again. That's how I first became aware that Seamus was a Death Eater."

"Right, well, even having those pieces of information Draco wasn't getting anything. It was only when Harry, whilst blind, reacted oddly to a Ravenclaw called Ben Sriften, that his power had enough to kick in."

Here she leaned closer to Dean, brown eyes shining with excitement over a revelation, even in the dim light of the corridor.

"Turns out the ward on Harry's bed was a miniature version of that which protects all of Hogwarts. Same way of breaking it; touch someone who the ward is there to protect, as they go through the ward, and you'll then be accepted by it as well. Sriften was enamoured of Harry, and had snuck into the dorm room one night in an attempt to get at him - but was foiled by Harry, who didn't fall for whatever trick he tried to use, which is where the hastily abandoned tie comes in,"

"The Ravenclaw had obviously done his homework before he went after Harry, and he found out about the wards, figured out how to get around them…and he also discovered the secret tunnels in the wall - which Draco had also recently discovered when trying to find out how the Death Eaters were getting around the school without being seen. Harry's reaction to the Ravenclaw drew Draco's attention to him, and the tie was identical to the one Neville had got from your dorm,"

"The only problem being that when Draco got the Circle to seal up the tunnels, Ben Sriften turned to the Death Eaters in his attempt to get at Harry - bargaining his information about the wards for them to kidnap Harry Potter for him."

Frowning slightly in discontent, Hermione looked away from the spy and continued walking.

"So, whilst Harry managed to survive the kidnap attempt, and even rescued Blaise Zabini's sister in his escape - the Death Eaters then had the key to entering Hogwarts."

Thinking back to the tingle of magic he'd felt in the walls, Dean realised that must have been from the tunnels being sealed up. As for the rest of it; Draco was obviously as formidable as Ron had speculated - meaning the git had been right as usual - and the Death Eaters could have attacked any time they wanted, after gaining the information off that bastard of a Ravenclaw.

Hesitantly taking Hermione's hand, Dean tried to offer what little comfort he could: knowing it wasn't her fault, and that, equally, she wouldn't accept any verbal platitudes. Still, if there was one thing Dean didn't like, it was being toyed with - and that was, in essence, exactly what this new evil prat had done.

Just as he was wondering why the girl next to him was slowing down, a blinding flash of light enveloped the corridor before them, and the floor dropped out from beneath him.

Letting out a cry of startlement, the last thing 09326 was aware of was the light sound of someone chuckling next to him.

Chapter 37 : So it begins to end - part one

From his position on the floor, Sirius could see practically all of the Great Hall. Granted, most of what he could see was feet, but it was still a lot of feet.

A shiver of premonition ruffled his fur, but he quickly choked down his rising growl - glancing up at Remus' face to gage how audible it had been. Luckily enough, the face of the man he loved was perfectly serene, indicating the sound hadn't gotten any further than making his own chest vibrate.

Peering up over his new boyfriend's lap, his doggy brown eyes could just about see down to where Dumbledore was sat; Hagrid on his left and Minerva on his right. The fool of a Headmaster had no clue about the horror that was about to burst in on them all - instead he was busy making odd shapes out of his hands under the table with Hagrid. Quickly rifling through his memory, Sirius soon remembered where he'd seen the like before - Hermione had tried to teach it to him and Harry before, apparently it was a muggle game called 'rock, paper, scissors'. Something you played to pass the time when you were bored, and didn't have any cards or anything else with you.

Muffling his snort of disgust in his paws, Sirius almost purred when Remus' gentle hand reached down and scratched him behind the ears.

An hour ago, all of Sirius' favourite dreams had come true, when Moony had run out of patience and slammed him up against the wall, snogging his brains out - he gave a doggy grin in fond remembrance. Then, a couple of minutes ago, he'd received a firecall from his leader, alerting him to the situation with the Death Eaters about to launch an attack…and all of his worst nightmares had come to life as well.

Shifting to animagus form, it had only taken a sufficiently love-struck look in Remus' direction to avert the Headmaster's suspicious gaze - and seeing the elderly man blush and look away had been enough to alleviate any guilt he'd felt at using the man's known 'weak-spot' and his own feelings in order to get his way.

As he was idly wondering if there would be enough time before the attack for him to beg a piece of sausage, the sound of a tormented howl coming from outside the Hall brought Sirius' head up with a jerk. Evidently not.

Pawing at Remus' robes, Sirius employed all of his doggy tricks; whimpering, whining…puppy dog eyes, and eventually managed to get the stubborn man to bend down.

"What is wrong with you? Padfoot, you know you'll be sent out if you…"

A thunderous crash heralded the door to the Great Hall being broken down, and several whining 'zings' accompanied the curses shot off in the direction of the teacher's table.

Cautiously raising his head from beneath the table, Remus cast a quick look at the scorch mark on the wall directly behind his seat, so fresh little crackles of magic still danced along the surface. Another glance at Sirius' pleading brown eyes, and he quickly ducked back under the table, crouching next to the one he loved and drawing his wand in the same motion. "I hope you know more about what's going on then I do, otherwise I think we're a bit screwed."

Giving a brief, comforting, woof, Sirius licked the wolf on the cheek, then darted out from under the table.

Racing under the Hufflepuff table, the dog jumped over legs, and wove around feet - tongue lolling as he heard sounds similar to a food fight start up. Only, instead of the laughter normally associated with such an activity, there were screams of terror and pain.

There were also a few cries of disgust - more the nearer he got to the doors, indicating the Death Eaters hadn't expected the children to be so resourceful as to use food to fend them off.

Hearing a particularly scandalised cry, Sirius changed direction and leapt out from under a tablecloth at a shaking Lucius Malfoy.

Flicking a piece of spaghetti off his hand, the elder Malfoy shook with rage as he pointed his wand at the student who had dared ruin his cloak. Before he could cast the killing curse however, a monstrous beast attacked him from behind - ripping a chunk out of his left leg, and causing even more damage to his outfit.

Glad to have distracted the man long enough for the student to escape, Padfoot turned his attention to the other Death Eaters - aiming to incapacitate them; either biting their arms or their legs, depending on what he could reach first.

Amused at the look of impotent rage on Lucius' face, Remus left Padfoot to it, and instead started firing curses of his own back at the intruders. Some of his former students had paid attention to his teachings and actually brought their wands to dinner with them, and they too went on the offensive, whilst the unarmed students were quick to flip their tables over and use them as shields of a kind. The wood wouldn't last for long though, given how fiercely the black cloaked adults were blasting away at it.

Even as he fired off several mobilicorpus curses, Remus could only watch as a first and third year Ravenclaw were dropped with the killing curse. The stench of death quickly became rife in the air.

Watching his adopted cubs fall, one by one, the wolf in Remus began to creep to the fore, increasing his reflexes and ruthlessness to the point where he was ducking curses before they were even fired his way, and snapping back his own, darker, curses simultaneously.

A quick turn to the right, a duck and a shove, sent a Death Eater crashing into a splintered table - a shard of wood spearing through their chest.

Distantly surprised they'd gotten so far in, Remus took the time to look around the Hall - ducking behind said table for a brief respite.

At some point, the students in the Hall had been joined by Circle members, and their bolstered spirits added more strength to their defense - particularly as the Circle had brought a ton of spare wands with them and liberally handed them out. Despite this there were still far too many bodies down, yet, even as Remus watched, one of the lying-wounded began to glow a strange orangey-blue, before vanishing.

Over by the doorway, Draco and Harry were a blur; cutting a swath through the Death Eaters as they waded through those who were still on the outskirts, obviously intending to work their way in.

Sirius had apparently given up on running all over the place, and, as Remus watched, the dog vanished from one point, only to appear at the other side of the Hall and rip a man's throat out with one bite.

The only one who didn't appear to be doing all that much was Dumbledore, and he was currently engaged in a very showy one-on-one duel with Lucius Malfoy, while clutching at a bloody wound in his side. Briefly raising an eyebrow at the sight, Remus jumped back into battle, this time orchestrating his kills to aid Harry and Draco's own efforts.

Unfortunately, Remus' survey of the battle had failed to take account of a shadowy corner, within which stood the new Dark Lord and his Lady - patiently waiting for their moment.

Chapter 38 : So it begins to end - part two

Leaving the young boy with a jagged tear all up one side of his body, Lucy knew he'd be healed next time she looked over - the faint orange glitter of her power dancing along his body ensured that - and yet she still couldn't contain the shiver she felt upon seeing the wound. And that was one of the minor victims.

Blue eyes briefly scanned the white walls of the Circle chamber's, and settled upon the familiar blue head of Dana, who was currently surrounded by Circle summoner's.

It had been over an hour already, and despite the obvious taxation to her powers, Dana insisted on continuing to observe what was going on in the Great Hall. All the scouting Death Eaters had been dealt with, as had the ones casting the spell to contain everyone in Hogwarts. Unfortunately, they'd managed to recast the spell once more before being killed, and a team of Circle members were still trying to figure out how to break the wall down: Hermione had become almost surgically attached to her book, eyes and hands disappearing into a pink haze as she searched for details on the spell they'd used.

"Another, to the left. Young female…Emma Purton."

The vague voice of the seer prompted the summoners into action, and Lucy quickly looked away as their unusual brand of orange-blue power began to appear - knowing that soon another critically injured student would be transported into the safety of the Corridors.

A gentle hand guided her off to the side, and Lucy was only marginally surprised to see the hand belonged to Drake Main. The empath had been hard at work, manipulating people's emotions so that they were calm enough not to question what was happening - and even managing to soothe the odd few into a healing sleep.

The fact that he was currently urging her to sit and drink some of their stashed butterbeer showed he was also monitoring the mental state of the Circle members.

"Thanks." Accepting the drink, Lucy held it to her forehead briefly, then took a quick sip, so as to avoid his gentle stare as he leant against the wall next to her.

Unfortunately, his probing eyes were currently in their golden state; a true sign his powers were in full use - and it was impossible to refuse a question from them.

"I'm just worried. I mean…yes, we were prepared - so we can cope with the wounded and stuff…but, even if Harry managed to kill Voldemort, how can we know he can defeat another Dark Lord?"

"Why wouldn't he?" As he asked the question, Drake let his eyes slip back into their more-natural brown state: giving himself a rest as well.

"At the combined meeting, Dumbledore said Harry hadn't reached his full potential - that he wouldn't until he either got together with his mate, or at the very least acknowledged he _had_ a mate. Hermione is normally right, which means the likelihood is extremely high that Draco is Harry's mate, right?"

Nodding, Drake started to see where she was going, and completed her thought on a sigh. "And they haven't exactly been acting very coupley - in fact, they've almost been avoiding each other."

"Exactly." Blue eyes flashed with worry, as she admitted her fears out loud. "Add to that what the other Cotsden member, Ron, said - and we don't even know if Harry would be able to take on this new Dark Lord if he was at his fullest strength."

"Lucy, the best I can give you is a piece of knowledge and a piece of advice."

Letting his brown eyes flash gold as a reminder, Drake continued.

"Draco and Harry are definitely in love with each other, whether they've admitted it yet or not - that is a certain. And, even if you doubt our abilities, never doubt the origins of them. The Circle of Light has been around for millennia, as have we all, in one shape or another. She will never let a tyrant rule."

Seeing the healer register the words, and _feeling_ her understand the meaning behind them, Drake gave Lucy's shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze, before heading over to someone else who desperately needed some emotional guidance.

"Dean, how are you doing?"

Dark brown eyes looked up too quickly, and the flash of surprise Drake felt emphasised the dark-skinned boy's preoccupation with his task. Which appeared to be re-dressing a girl's burn wounds whilst sketching out some kind of map.

"Oh, hi - Drake, wasn't it?" Quirking an eyebrow in question, the Cotsden agent patiently waited for the empath's confirmation before continuing with his self-appointed tasks. Talking as he did so.

"Yeah, I'm doing all right. Did you need my help with something?"

Probing as deep as he could, all the brown-haired boy could sense was calmness, a sincere wish to help, and mild curiosity.

Deciding to try and rattle the cage slightly, Drake posed a question on his own. "Actually, I was just wondering…why haven't you told Hermione you like her yet?"

A flicker of surprise, and a flare of something deeper…fear.

"You've got to be kidding, right?" Looking up once more, Dean's eyes showed none of his actual feelings as the boy searched Drake's own face. "I don't think now's really the time - we have slightly more important matters on our hands."

"I don't know," Following as the other boy finished up the bandaging and stood up to move away. "Seems to me the best time for such revelations is during times of stress - or, at the very least, before one or both of you die. And you could, y'know - we all could. Die, that is. Afterall, it was your pal who predicted this Dark Lord is going to be uber-powerful; we might not make it."

Setting his drawing down on one of the makeshift tables that had been provided by the Light, Dean raised a troubled stare to look over at Hermione. Eyes mapping out the picture she made, with her uniform eschew and her attention completely merged with the book in her lap, through the aid of her bright pink power.

Momentarily blocking out the sounds of people rushing about, the quiet crying of the injured, and the sporadic instructions from Dana as she guided the summoners in who to bring down, Drake focused all of his being on two people - determined to bring one, positive, change about.

Reaching, reaching…Yes!

Hermione's powers blinked and vanished - leaving a bewildered brunette staring over at Dean, feeling all the things he was currently feeling. Thanks to the direct link Drake had just managed to establish between them.

It would fade in a moment, but for now he left the two to revel in what the other was feeling. Giving Dean a subtle push in the right direction, he quietly walked away, leaving them to their brief break from work.

Wandering over to the table Dean had left his map on, Drake picked up the sketch of all the possible escape routes from Hogwarts and carried it over to Neville - passing the group of summoners just as another body popped into existence in the middle of them. Giving the poor student a little jolt to knock them out as they began to bleed all over the floor, Drake otherwise ignored it as several other healers rushed up and hoisted the prone form onto a makeshift stretcher. Neville would be able to pass the map on to his boyfriend, who could then get Ron to analyse the possibilities.

Musing over his most recent piece of work, Drake decided it was officially odd how playing matchmaker never failed to give him a happy buzz - and even now, in the middle of a crisis, he had an undeniable urge to start humming. Must be the glow of first love.

Chapter 39 : So it begins to end - part three

A shattering curse tore a chunk out of the wall, and Ron automatically ducked as shards of stone rained down on him - a raised arm protecting his head and face from the sharp edges. A brief lull in curses sparked his strategic mind, and the Cotsden agent immediately put his training to use.

Diving and rolling, he managed to put enough space between himself and his previous position that the tidal wave of water which suddenly slammed into the wall missed him completely - although he did get a bit damp from the spray, the important thing was that his body and skull remained intact.

Tripping a Death Eater with one foot, Ron braced himself on the other, and flipped the off-balance person around - putting them directly in the path of the next curse headed his way.

A sudden turquoise glow from Blaise's general direction indicated Neville was contacting him once more, and a few seconds later the dark-headed boy himself appeared and started to fight in Ron's direction.

Seeing the danger before the other boy did, Ron flung himself to the ground, sweeping Blaise's feet out from under him as well with a quick flick of his wand; just in time to avoid a charmed plate decapitating them. Ignoring the resulting swearwords, Ron grabbed the piece of parchment Blaise was holding and quickly scanned it - immediately recognising Dean's style of drawing.

"The front exit will be held by those who took out the spell-casters. That leaves the dungeons and the owlry as the two main exit points. We need to send a group to guard the entrance to the dungeons, as well as the owlry - station them here," Ron quickly drew a couple of harsh lines onto the parchment with his wand. "And here. You only need to send about two strong fighters with each group - we need the rest of them here still, and as long as they hold their positions, they should be able to cope with only moderate fighters."

Knowing better than to question Ron at this point, Blaise merely nodded and moved away to issue orders.

Not liking the vague sense that he was missing something, Ron shifted to automatic fighting, not really paying attention to how he was killing people, as he tried to figure out what he was neglecting.

Just as he realised the problem - there had been no bulk of attack - Ron heard a terribly familiar roar of outrage. Jerking his gaze in the direction of what remained of the head table, his blue eyes widened in horror as he saw what had occurred.

Making a move to kill the Headmaster, now that he had been sufficiently weakened by the elder Malfoy, Ron's little sister hadn't paid any mind to the feeble-minded half-giant. Until he'd shoved his way in front of her killing curse; absorbing that which had been meant for Dumbledore.

"Apparently I have been negligent in my duties - I'll remedy that now."

Turning at the familiar voice, Ginny's ice-blue eyes attempted to melt at the sight of her brother, trying - vainly - to turn on the water-works and give a convincing portrayal of someone who'd been controlled by the Dark Lord.

Even as she tried to bend her features into the appropriate expression, the black-hearted girl could tell it was too late for that. If not for the blank expression on her brother's face, then for the fact that a killing curse was already flying towards her as she turned around to face him.

With her last second of life, before the curse hit her, the young girl turned her eyes to her Lord. And smiled.

Moving on before his sister's body had even begun to fall, the last player slotted into place in his head, as the information Ron had already had was so brutally reinforced. Seeing his sister's soul-less eyes, his fast-working mind had raced back to the beginning.

A dank, musty tunnel. His sister's face appearing; smudged and bruised, between the rocks Lockhart had disrupted. Hearing the tale of the diary, the manner with which Voldemort's younger self had 'attempted' to come to life…and that he hadn't succeeded.

But now, Ron saw it for the set-up it had always been. Saw the way his sister's eyes had been hollow when peering out from the rocks - how she'd changed since then. Not because it was so traumatising, but because she'd lost her faith in the boy-who-lived, and, at the last minute, had joined forces with the memory of Tom Riddle.

Darting through the people who were still fighting, jumping over broken tables, and skidding in dropped food - Ron desperately raced to find Harry, and tell him the horrible truth of who he would now have to face.

For now it was all too obvious - Harry was going to be facing a young version of Voldemort, with, not only the full power of his hey-day, but the powers he'd undoubtedly drained from his older self…right before sending the practically-empty shell out on a death mission in a ploy to throw the Order off-guard.

Finally catching sight of the half-veela, Ron was just in time to see the boy get buried under a hastily levitated table. Putting on a final burst of speed in desperation, the young strategist was dismayed to feel something wrap around his ankle and yank!

A thud heralded his meeting with the floor, and next he knew he was slamming into a dog-shaped Sirius, who let out a pained yelp at the contact - matted red fur showing he wasn't unscathed from the battle.

"Well, well, look what I caught."

A gloating Lucius was never a pretty sight - particularly when he was levelling a long stick of wood at the two magically bound figures at his feet, an evil gleam of sadistic delight in his eyes.

"The annoying mutt who's been plaguing me all evening, and the killer of my Lady. Quite a prize. Aveda K…Oomph!"

Feeling the invisible cage falter, Ron quickly sat up and tugged Sirius away - looking over briefly in time to see Draco slam a fist into his father's precious face. At the blood that spilled, Ron was rather surprised he himself didn't wince - especially when it was followed up with a knife to the groin.

Fortunately though, Ron wasn't feeling particularly forgiving, even if he was slightly worried about Draco.

With that thought in mind, the red-haired boy gave Lucius the gift the man had tried to give him. The killing curse.

"What did you do that for!"

The rage in Draco's voice was enough to justify Ron's actions, so he left the Circle leader to calm down, and continued on his interrupted effort to reach Harry.

During the brief time Ron had been down, the boy-who-lived had managed to shove the table off himself - but he'd also managed to be grabbed by Tom Riddle. A bit late for Ron to warn him then.

Feet dangling in the air, Harry was gasping for breath in the Dark Lord's grasp. From a distance they looked like two dark-haired young men.

One had hair that was black and falling in extremely tangled curls; green eyes spitting sparks at the person holding him. The other had impossibly smooth brown hair, and deadly-calm eyes, which were also green, and yet a much-duller, moss-like colour.

Upon closer inspection, it was clearly obvious that the one in tailored clothes harboured malevolent intentions, whilst the spitting-hissing boy he was choking was actually the more even-natured one of the two. How the hell it was possible to tell, Ron couldn't figure out; all he knew was that the evil was practically pouring off of the Dark Lord, though why the man was so pissed off he didn't know - afterall, he finally had Harry Potter in his grasp, didn't he? Wasn't that all he'd ever wanted?

"She's dead. Now you will all pay the pri…Ouch!"

Abruptly cutting off his mounting dire threat, Tom Riddle looked up at the blood welling from his hand, and then lifted his incredulous gaze even higher - so that he was looking directly at the sharp green eyes glaring at him.

"You little snake! Got fangs, huh? - I'll show _you_ fangs!"

Letting out a maniacal laugh, which sounded half-hysterical, the Dark Lord made as if to slam the dangling boy against the wall.

"No."

It was a quiet, gasped out, word, and yet it stopped the most evil person in the world in his tracks. "Huh? What did you say…?"

"I said - 'No'!"

Yelling the last word, Harry let go of Tom Riddle's hands and kicked out as the man's torso.

THUMP

A small bit of pulverised stone drifted down to land on the tailored shirt of the Dark Lord, who'd just been blasted straight across the Great Hall. Then a huge slab of stone gently detached from the wall and slammed down on the man's head.

Straightening up from the crouch he'd landed in when he'd been dropped, Harry calmly took the time to shake his hair back before making his way towards his life-time nemesis. A gentle glow throwing his features into sharp relief and showing his true heritage to all.

Knocking the stone off Tom Riddle, Harry studied the limp form for a moment, then reached down to grab the back of his expensive shirt. Casually lifting his arm up, Harry rotated his wrist, then flung his arm down - Tom's limp body following.

Standing by the head of the now-groaning form, Harry ignored the suddenly silent Hall in favour of tilting his head to the side. Patiently waiting for something.

Luminous green eyes slowly lifted and flickered around the room; taking in the chaos, the dead bodies, and not to mention the wounded. Finally landing on the blood-soaked form of Draco Malfoy, who currently had an eyebrow raised and a question glimmering in his white-grey eyes. A brief flash of white blocked the green from view, but it was only very brief, and when the blindness lifted the boy-who-lived studied the world out of eyes which now had elliptical pupils. Like a cat's.

Apparently finding what he'd been waiting for, the veela turned back to the task at hand, reaching down and ripping the man's head off. A geyser of blood sprayed, but he stepped to the side, out of reach.

Juggling the head from one hand to another, Harry spun around to face the staring group of Death Eaters, students and teachers. Eyes back to normal, and amused expression lighted on his face at the way everyone was looking at him.

"Anybody got a light?"

Chapter 40 : Clean up

Funnily enough it had been a regular student who had taken Harry's question at face value; producing a muggle lighter from one of his many pockets, and handing it over without comment.

Putting the lighter to actual use had taken a while longer. First, they'd had to clear up the remaining Death Eaters; tend to the wounded, and gather the dead. It was after those tasks had been completed that Harry had grabbed Tom Riddle's body and lugged it outside - still cradling the head in one hand.

Small twigs had been piled on top of large branches; a pyre of sorts. Harry had dumped the dead flesh in the centre with no fanfare. The lighting of the wood he'd done with a smile on his face.

Those that could be moved had been brought out from the Circle hideout and placed in the infirmary, whereas the rest were left where they were - with warning spells cast on them in case they went into critical zone again.

Nothing could be done for Hagrid, Ginny, or any of the Death Eaters. In fact, any survivors they found had been executed on the spot.

All the bodies were being held for the family to come and take away; for the Death Eaters it would be ministry officials. Harry hadn't trusted to leave Riddle's body - the bastard had managed to come back from the dead a few too many times for him to be comfortable leaving any remains behind. Thus, the bonfire that was currently going on outside the wards - not even his ghost would be allowed entrance to the school.

Harry had left all the details to Dumbledore; who to notify, how to calm the remaining students, where to store the bodies, etc. Now, backing carefully out of the room he'd just been about to walk into, he almost wished he'd taken on the monumental task of picking Hogwarts back up again himself.

It had started with shy glances, whispered comments, surreptitious touches. And now he'd just walked in on Pansy and Ron kissing one another brainless!

"Definitely an aphrodisiac." Harry muttered to himself, deciding to go see if the owlry was a couple-free zone.

"What's that, Harry?" At the unexpected voice, the veela nearly clocked the newcomer one, but managed to curb the impulse and slowly uncurled his hands from fists.

Looking over at Drake as he drew level, Harry was momentarily scared by the cheerful gleam in the other boy's eyes. "I was just thinking that fighting must be an aphrodisiac or something: I keep bumping into new couples wherever I turn."

"Ah," Gold eyes gleamed, as Drake allowed himself a small chuckle of amusement. "And yet you haven't paired off with someone yourself yet?"

The floor suddenly seemed very interesting to the Gryffindor, if the way he suddenly started studying it was any indication.

"I take it you…'read' me then?"

"Yep, but with the display you put on in there, I'd say it was pretty clear to everyone you've found your one. Unfortunately for you, Ron was right about everything else, which means the likelihood he was wrong about Riddle's amount of power is very low. I doubt anyone will buy it."

Green eyes were caught and held by gold, and suddenly Harry was overcome with the irresistible urge to blurt out all his problems.

"I just don't know what to do! When we first met - we were enemies. Then, when this all started, it looked like we could become allies, or friends. But before that could happen I was told we were mates!"

Sighing, Harry looked away at a wall, face unhappy.

"It just seems to be going too fast. As soon as I think we can become one thing, I find out we're meant to be something else. The fact that Draco keeps trying to hide how he feels about me doesn't help any either!"

Withholding his laughter, lest it put the young veela off, Drake clapped a friendly hand on Harry's shoulder. Talking to distract the boy enough that he wouldn't notice the minor touch of magic.

"I don't think you need to worry. As you said; fighting is an aphrodisiac. In your case however, I think it might be just what you two need to get you to actually _talk_ to each other. Why don't you go find him now? There's nothing else that needs doing, and from what you said it sounds like everyone else is a bit busy anyway."

Mumbling an acknowledgement, the boy-who-never-dies wandered off feeling slightly light-headed. Unable to see the faint sparkle of gold magic soaking into his shoulder.

Content to drowse in yet another happy buzz, Drake let go of his grip on his amusement, and soon his raucous laughter filled the corridors. Out of place with the recent battle maybe, but considering all the matchmaking he'd done in recent hours, he definitely needed to unleash the energy overflow somehow.

"Honestly! And I thought you said you weren't, and I quote; 'strong enough to effect major emotional changes in a person'. How do you explain away what I just witnessed you do, then?"

Turning to face the shadowy corner the voice originated from, Drake refused to wipe the satisfied smile from his face.

"I'm not strong enough - but that was just a minor prod in the right direction. And that, Sophie my darling, is something I _am_ strong enough to do."

Stepping out of the darkness, a familiar woman appeared. Black hair framed an ivory-pale face, and brown eyes burned with a curious glow. Almost hypnotising.

Sophie Darlton chuckled quietly to herself, allowing the rare flash of her fangs, which showed how comfortable she was in the young wizard's company. If Dumbledore were to see such teeth, he'd immediately know the reason for his instinctive discomfort when meeting her eyes - he'd also immediately ban her from the Order most likely. And that was something her Cotsden superiors wouldn't be happy with.

"I take it you were able to break Riddle's ties with the vampires then?"

"Oh yes," She purred, gliding up to Drake, and pressing a light kiss to her young love's cheek. "That was simplicity itself, although I hear William had slightly more trouble dissuading the werewolves and other shapeshifters from joining Riddle's forces. Which is almost a shame, since I appear to be too late to join in the fighting here."

"Hmm…that is a shame, although Draco will be pleased when I tell him your news…" Golden eyes faded to a brown which darkened suddenly, as Drake let the glow of matchmaking drift away to be replaced by something equally as potent.

"Since he's now going to be a bit busy himself for a while, why don't I make it up to you…somehow?"

Letting her red lips curl into a smile, Sophie gripped her contact with the Circle's collar with a slender hand, and slowly pulled him back, into the shadows, with her.

"I'd like that."

Chapter 41 - Epilogue

"Are you just planning on looking at me, or are you going to come in?"

Staring at the blond boy who was curled up in the centre of his bed, Harry absently wondered why Draco had decided to hide in Harry's own bed. Distantly, because he was having a bit of trouble concentrating due to the picture Draco made; blond hair tousled, and perched there in his briefs. And of course there was something important Harry was meant to say…

"I love you."

Judging from the squeak Draco gave, he was as surprised to hear the declaration as Harry had been to have it issue from his mouth. Not that it wasn't true…he just hadn't been planning on saying it any time soon.

"…Harry…do you mean that?" Bringing Harry back to the present, and stopping him from frowning at himself, Draco's question voiced the other boy's insecurity, and was once again answered without Harry's full consent - in the form of a heartfelt nod.

Lowering his blue-grey eyes to the dark-green and black sheets of Harry's bed, Draco appeared to digest that for a moment.

"I should have turned up on your bed like this sooner. If I'd known you'd react like that it would have saved a lot of time!" Saying it in a jokey manner, Harry was rather surprised that Draco's eyes were deadly serious when he looked up again. They were also the lightest grey Harry had seen them yet - indicating Draco was finally ready to let Harry see the real him.

"I know I haven't acted like it - when we were enemies, when we were allies, or even when we almost had _sex_! - but I really do care for you Harry…I think I love you too."

The haze that had been dictating Harry's actions until then abruptly lifted, leaving the green-eyed boy blinking bemusedly at the floor of his dorm room. His declaration of love ringing in his ears, and momentarily blocking out Draco's reciprocation of his feelings.

Obviously taking the silence to mean his admission wasn't enough, Draco began to babble - determined to keep the half-veela now that he knew his feelings were returned.

"…I mean, I _know_ I love you, it's just… - I haven't been in love before, and, I didn't know how to act! I'm the leader of the Circle, and, in order to get there, I've had to limit the amount of emotions I show people, in order to be strong. So that's why I've been acting kind of, weird, recently - but I definitely love you, so…give me a chance…?"

Trailing to a halt, Draco implored Harry to make the next move with his eyes; a half-scared, half-determined look on his face as he waited for Harry's reaction.

Still blinking, Harry's brain finally latched on to something. _'I love you'_

Grunting slightly as the full weight of the veela knocked Draco over, the Slytherin was quick to regain control of the situation - wrestling his mate under him and making him pay for that long hesitation.

Their happy, desperate kisses gradually simmered down, and, more confident that the other one wasn't going anywhere, they just indulged in the other's presence by their side for a while.

"Now, I know this is sudden," Harry suddenly spoke up, eyes focused on watching his own hands idly stroke Draco's bare chest, "And because of that, I think we should take things slowly; make sure this is what you want…"

"What I want? - what about you, don't we need to make sure this is what you want as well?"

Flashing Draco an annoyed look at his interruption, the veela didn't pay much attention to his own response to that ridiculous question.

"Noo…you're my mate, so of course I'm sure this is what I want. Now then, as I was _saying_; since you have a choice in the matter, I think we should just 'date' for a while…make sure you aren't going to change your mind or anything."

Only able to manage a slight choking sound, Draco fixed on to the first thing Harry had said _'you're my mate'_, and vaguely wondered if he was dreaming.

"Oww!"

Okay, yep, the pinch had hurt - definitely awake.

"I love you!" Pinning Harry onto the bed, Draco proceeded to dot mini kisses all over the boy's face, muttering his feelings into the soft skin beneath him.

"That's nice, really," Cautiously patting Draco on the shoulder, the veela wondered what had happened to the normally-reasonable boy he knew. As the Circle leader neared a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, Harry gave the oblivious boy a quick poke to get his attention.

"But you still haven't answered me - do you want to give this…us, a trial run?"

Levering himself upright, Draco gaze down at the dishevelled face beneath him. White-grey eyes twinkling with tenderness and amusement.

"I have a confession to make,"

"The Circle of Light has been around for thousands of years, and it has always had a leader. That leader has always been me, in various reincarnations…"

"That's nice, but what does that…"

Shutting Harry up with a gentle hand over his mouth, Draco was determined to continue his story, once and for all.

"There is a prophecy about me, and about somebody referred to as my 'other half'. Whenever I've reincarnated I retain all my memories, from all of my previous lives, and in all of those lives I've searched for the one mentioned in the prophecies,"

"I've never found them. When I first met you, I liked you - even when pretending to hate you - and I've fallen in love with you. To begin with I was hopeful you would be the one; you had all the characteristics mentioned in the prophecy, and you have the ancient power they speak of. But there was one thing missing,"

Gazing into worried green eyes, the gold of his power slowly spread to the other boy, sharing the prophecy he knew by heart as it did so.

"My other half was to be someone who also had a strong, unbreakable, link to me. You say I am your mate. That's it! - that is the link which shows you are the one I've been waiting for all these lifetimes."

A reverent kiss was gently pressed on Harry's mouth, and the raven-haired boy returned it slowly, a gentle tear sliding down his cheek as he digested what Draco's words meant.

"You needn't worry about providing me with space, or time - or having to cajole me to open myself up to you. The only thing preventing that was my worry of falling for the wrong person; someone who wouldn't be able to walk the Corridors with me for eternity…but you will be able to do that, because you are my other half."

****

It's finished! Not too sure about the cheesy ending; I tried to tone it down and make it more palatable, but I also wanted to get it all up and posted. So, just let me know what you all think, and I might redo it at a later date if Ii can be bothered, or can think of a better ending.

R&R please, and thank you everyone who has remained interested in this fic - despite my looong absence from writing! Despite the fact that I liked being able to post so many chapters all at once, I don't think I can do that with the rest of my fic, although I will be writing some new chapters soon. Might even attempt some mini off-shoot oneshots for this fic; a glimpse into Blaise/Neville's relationship maybe…or I might go into more detail about Severus/Bill's 'problem'.

Despite being finished this fic is probably still quite open-ended, due to how many different plot threads I tried to put in there, so if you're confused by any of it, or have any questions, just review or email me and I'll answer them as best I can. Thanx for reading!


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